#faun/human hybrid

[fortunaestalta]

[scienceambersandfantasy]

Foul Blendec: The Undead Satyrs

[yanderenightmare]

ooooh what kinda mythic creatures are the jjk boys?

Gojo, Sukuna, Toji

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Gojo Satoru Hybrid between angel and human

His hair is pearlescent and so are his wings—soft feathers, sharper than blades when he wants them to be. His halo can only be spotted when the sun shines extra bright—like a ring of stardust slowly orbiting his crown.

He doesn’t know his parents, nor which one of them was the angel. But it’s not something he cares much about. People call him Icarus, and he tries to live up to it the way he drowns himself in another’s embrace every new night—never the same one.

Never the same one until you. Another hybrid. No part of Angel, though…

He falls in love with it—all of it—the points of your teeth, the tiny horns that protrude from your hairline, the slim tail adorned with that pretty arrowhead, and the equally sharp look in your eyes as you glare at him with disgust.

He wants to know more. Do have markings in unseen places? How far does your tongue stretch, and is it split down the middle like with a snake? Is it venomous? Is it sweet? Does your skin burn to the touch like the sun does when he flies too close? Or will it be warm and soft and pliable?

He and his angel eyes freak you out. You advise him to leave you alone, the point of your tail threatening to slice his throat open. You’ve been shunned enough by humans—you don’t need to add a snooty angel boy to the fray. 

But then he calls you beautiful. And no one’s called you beautiful before.

Ryomen Sukuna Hellhound

The few times humans have dared try to tame him have all been devasting days of fire and death. Silly humans, thinking they can make him do his bidding like another mutt on a leash—he’ll make them all burn.

But then there’s you. You’re not like the other humans. You don’t come to him with any intention of collaring him. Instead, you have your hands folded together in prayer—sweet scripture leaves your lips, soothing his singed skin until it stops burning.

You wear holy robes and a kind smile on your face, you don’t avert your eyes even as he glares at you with the embers in his own, even as he growls and bares teeth. You don’t ignore him when he speaks, either, even when his tongue comes out split through the middle and all his words reek of smoke. You bathe him in holy water and rinse the soot out of his fur—telling him he’s a good boy.

He feels no desire to bite your hand as you pet his head and stroke his ears—he just ends up wagging his tail. But then again… he is still a hellhound. And you should know better than to feed monsters in the dark…

He leaves his room in the chapel and sniffs yours out—nothing, not even so much as a seal on your door to keep him out. You have too much faith. Your door creaks open, but you remain peacefully asleep—all soft snores as he mounts you with drool dripping down his canines…

Fushiguro Toji Hunter

Rumor has it that something far worse than ogres and trolls travel the forest. Beware of the hunter—all you little nymphs, fauns, and fairies. Some say he’ll stuff you in a bag and sell you, while others argue it’s his appetite that makes him hunt—some even mean it’s just for sport, that he’ll kill and stuff you and mount your head on the wall.

You, a poor forest nymph, are unfortunate enough to get yourself caught in one of his nets. You’re a crying little mess by the time he comes around—begging him not to sell or eat or skin or harvest your wings, barely breathing between the words.

He chuckles and promises you he won’t do any of that stuff, but the smile on his face is enough to convince you he’s possessed by some sort of demon. And as he hauls you up on his shoulder and starts carrying you further into those places you’ve never dared venture, into the thicker parts of the forest where the trees all seem riddled with some type of disease—you can’t help but believe all those rumors you’d heard.

He tells you that his snares and nets are meant for rodents and that he didn’t think fae-folk were dumb enough to get themselves caught by them as he starts cutting into the net to free you—only, he doesn’t stop at the net—but goes for your slik garb next. Whistling as he bares your pretty skin while pinning your small wrists above you in one meaty hand.

His grin is sharper than his knife when he advises you not to struggle, saying he would feel awful if he were to accidentally cut you.

♡ Nanami, Fushiguro, Naoya ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

EDIT: PART 2 HERE

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place. 

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts. 

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay. 

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle... 

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages. 

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue. 

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox. 

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots. 

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom. 

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger. 

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”  

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious. 

Why would you say that? 

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. 

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you. 

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile. 

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur? 

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you. 

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts. 

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly. 

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you. 

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.” 

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears? 

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat. 

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to… 

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels. 

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats. 

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use. 

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want. 

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man. 

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone. 

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out. 

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand. 

He wants you to guide him to his father. 

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years. 

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens. 

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you. 

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is. 

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh. 

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out. 

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely. 

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory. 

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand. 

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission. 

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm. 

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be. 

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.” 

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick. 

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.” 

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

[hoofpeet]

Traditional satyr/faun snack --> It's just a stick of ice cream covered in salt crystals. Ruminant hybrids intake lot more salt than other species and their cuisine in general is a lot saltier, to the extent that a lot of it would probably be inedible to humans. Colloquially known as salt licks 👍

[krypticcafe]

How do you feel about CoD boys in a monster au? Whether they’re the monster or their s/o is the monster, I just think it would be neat. I’m partial towards werewolves but honestly I love anything that goes bump in the night. I LOVE the idea of a monster being afraid of hurting their partner but their partner knows that they could never hurt them. If you’re open to monster requests, I have so many ideas. Just… monsters, man

oooo are we spitballing bc I love throwing around ideas!!

I absolutely love monster AUs, one of my faves is @/bluegiragi's and I'm sure you all know that iconic one. I'm totally open to monster/hybrid requests, and a detailed list of what other things I write can be found in the cafe's Customer Service Policy aka rules :]

And monster-related plots? I'm a sucker for that shit, need more of that and monster!reader.

If I were to make a Monster Hybrid AU with my own specific ideas though, hmm...

Powerful and stoic, Price would make a great minotaur (lower half of a bull). Sure, maybe his back isn't what it used to be, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have the strength to send you back to your maker. Every step he takes on base acknowledges his presence, a posture that demands respect from its witnesses. The horns on his head aren't something to mess with either, though it takes him ages to scrape out the dried blood from the cracks and tailor his bucket hats.

On the other hand, the canine hybrid for Soap is oddly charming. Similarly to a werewolf, he would have the senses of one, but as a just hybrid, he's unable to fully transform. Instead, he's equipped with features like ears, tail, fangs, some fur on his arms and legs, and a longer tongue. I can see him being a border collie, the Scottish sheepdog just makes sense. But a kelpie/merfolk would also work with his callsign. Soap, a mischievous water spirit known for "cleaning out" rooms of enemies? A body with slick scales, gills, and a frilled mohawk when in monster form? Yeah, I can definitely see that.

For someone with a Queen's honor, a phoenix feels right for Gaz. Bright and burning wings and tail—a light that feels regal and elegant, yet so youthful and lively at the same time. With him in the sky, you're guaranteed to be safe under his watch. Or maybe a cervitaur with those doe eyes of his, gorgeous as ever. Yet equipped with a kick that's sure to shatter the ribs of those who mock him for being just a faun with a pretty face.

Undeniably, with such a specific callsign, Ghost can't be anything other than a wraith. Maybe mix in a bit of demonic blood, soul-eater tendencies, or even marks of an incubus for a little extra kick. His scars look more like shadowy cracks in his skin, smoke pours from the concerningly realistic skull he wears, he looks more like a reaper than a spirit. Regardless, this man is a shadowy phantom that provokes the fear of gods in whoever he sets his target as.

Roach, sure maybe his energy is fitting of a satyr or something more fitting and urban for our token American, like a roach version of Mothman. Bug wings and scales similar to the structure of an exoskeleton, But Roach came to be for being nearly indestructible, like the bug. In fact, it would be more accurate to call Roach, Roaches, as a bogeyman with a human body that can crumble into a swarm of those insects would explain why gunshots and explosions can hardly stop him.

Like Ghost, we can't deny who Hound is, either. Werewolf. Anything less would be criminal. For fun, mix it in with a bit of hellhound hybrid biology, so that he has to either go as a full hellhound or a human with hellhound features. Eyes that burn like Tartarus and a fanged snarl that even Cerberus would shudder at. Maybe even make him in charge of a hellhound K-9 unit, forced to face the very thing he fears.

As for the Reader? Well, that's up to you. Personally, I'm a little fond of shapeshifters. Might need to draw some of these ideas sometime...

Ah well, just some thoughts I had. Any other spitballs you guys have?

[hybbart]

i don't know if this has been asked before but i didn't see it in the characters post and was curious, so, can we have a list of all the hybrids and what hybrid they are in the RAAU, specifically people other than the ranchers who aren't mentioned as much, like etho or pix and them

Primarily

Tango is a blazeborn

Jimmy (canary) and Grian (parrot) are avians

Zed (sheep), Gem (caribou), Doc (goat), and Tom (cow) are fauns

Lizzie (axolotl) and xB (guardian) are merfolk

Scott is an elf

Cleo is a gorgon

Joel and Zloy are green

Beandog is a dog hybrid

Etho, Keralis, and Hermes are ???

Scar, Cub, Hypno, Katherine, Impulse, Pearl, Sausage, Pixl, Lyarrah, False, Bdubs, and Mandy are human

Secondarily

Doc is also a cyborg

Doc and False are also biologically enhanced

Tom is also half voidling

Cub is now a warden

[autisticlalna]

Skyblock Kingdoms species headcanons: expanded edition

okay so a while ago i had a post with an overview of my headcanons for the SBKers, but it was very basic bc i only had ideas for a few people . however, here is me now going completely insane. enjoy

Dark Oak:

Viking:

catboy. has ears under his hat, which is why he never takes it off.

i cant decide if he has a tail or not. itd make sense with the catboyism but not with the "able to hide it" thing

sometimes partially phases through things, and his elytra wings arent fully tangible. also: elytra are Very green.

not a species headcanon but, as is typical for when i write about Vikings: his compass points somewhere, and that somewhere is Down. if he holds his compass horizontally, the needle spins in place, but otherwise it's always pointing to the Void.

Fix:

is extremely normal. like, normal to the point where everything else just kinda.. fizzles out.

(Milkman is able to push it, but still doesn't get a strong reaction.)

if it somehow canceled out, something would be extremely up with Fix. like, this guy is Not human, hes just been made human by... whatever is causing this.

i don't know what he'd be, though. ccViking mentioned gryphon and i think that's fun considering there's a few other mythical creatures in here, but Solar has also been prodding me with the alien Fix agenda so

Cherry:

Rubyco:

pointy-eared allay hybrid

...although that's usually overwritten by her mimicry. shifts species and aesthetic often to better blend in with whoever xe's spending time with

might be an issue related to the timeline instability-- bleedover from other timelines where he's island partners with someone else instead of Vintage.

hair is made of gemstones, and injuries can show up as cracks or chips to reveal crystal underneath. (so, basically the same as my take on tRuby.)

has allay wings, obvs

Vintage:

dryad and guardian of the cherry grove biome

the original cherry tree on the island was Her Tree, and has now regrown into the big tree

i keep thinking [elora from spyro voice] "im a FAUN you dork" so . i guess she's a faun also??? dryad taking form of a faun

LUNA MOTH WINGS. I NEARLY FORGOT

what if a deer was a person. and pink. and a tree. and a luna moth. and had cherry blossoms growing on her. and was bi

Jungle:

Avid:

has everything wrong with him.

i dont know how to describe whats going on with Avid besides "it was BAD". the deeper he got into dark magic the more screwed up he got mentally and physically

got a white hair streak from stress of being trapped in incendium and his eyes gradually went from purple to red after selling his soul

nonhuman in the sense of "was human once and we have no idea what the hell he is now"

now he's monkey! this is an improvement. still has the hair streak though, and his eyes look red in some lighting

Doovid:

the actual only human on the entire server. Fix doesn't count

..and now he's monkey! oops lmao

im gonna be real most of my headcanons for who he is and where he came from are gonna hinge on me remembering to rewatch Shadow of Israphel. thanks mallow <3

full title Skylord Doovid, although nobody calls him that

elytra are a wood-and-canvas style glider

Birch:

Fool:

ex-human

covered in cracks and held together by gold seams, like broken pottery

bleeds liquid gold

can be mistaken for a marble statue if he stands still.

he's still flesh and.. uh, not blood, but looks a bit Off

Milkman:

gestures. WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS GUY

mimic shapeshifter like Ruby but, like. worse. guy who has realized he can use his abilities For The Bit and has never looked back

cannot be killed in a way that matters

Bamboo:

M1G:

humanoid alien with pointy ears, a tail, and bioluminescent freckles

eyes and blood also glow. M1G is very glowy.

has paws :3

dragon elytra

Kale:

space piiiiig

anthropomorphic, can be easily mistaken for a piglin

has the gift of opposable thumbs

Mangrove:

Marmalade:

ccRuby mentioned the idea of Marm having hooves and i think that's neat.

drifting further away from human the more times she falls into the Void

maybe some demon vibes? idk. in the category of "not a specific species, just has nonhuman traits" but Avid probably considers her demonic lmao

eyes have a slight glow. when doing magic or listening to the Void, the glow gets brighter / her eyes entirely change color and have a light trail

Tea:

kitty :3

like. Viking is catboy. Tea is cat.

Acacia:

Trog:

human... right?

not human. eldritch entity that's knitted itself together into a human form. either the original Trog is still in there somewhere, or was never there at all.

glowing eyes, sharp teeth, face always somewhat in shadow. movement either too fluid or too stiff. nearing the uncanny valley

has triangle pupils and their eyes reflect light like a cat's

bleeds black gunk (if they remember to bleed, anyway)

is "stuck" as human, but when stressed, too close to the Void, or losing focus they can start to glitch out into a chaotic mess of triangles and polygons until they're grounded again

Kittrix:

red panda hybrid! ears, tail, paws

very sculk-y under the hoodie. has the exposed soul-heart-cage thing the Warden does

sensitive to sound, but hasn't made the connection that it's a sculk thing and thinks she just has misophonia

completely unbothered by everything Wrong with Trog. it's all perfectly normal, says entity who is also not normal in any way shape or form,

Spruce:

Acorn:

was previously a squirrel in a raccoon mask

after the void jump, she's now just like.. kinda a mishmash of small winter-y animals. squirrel, ermine, fox, snowshoe rabbit, etc

congratulations! youve gotten promoted to "embodiment of winter". im sure that wont have consequences

does not have facial features under the mask. it's fine she doesn't need them where she's going

has arctic tern elytra wings

sculk is still surface-level, but it keeps regrowing when she tries to pry it off

Anathra:

android, looks human unless you play close attention - most SBKers haven't figured it out yet

used to overheat easily (especially with glasses off), but after his hair started changing color he's now freezing cold to the touch

glasses are an external attachment that lock into place, so Anathra taking them off is Very Intentional and they can't be knocked off by accident

is usually able to repair himself, but sometimes has to go to Trog or Neon for help

currently unbothered by the sculk, although he's getting a bit concerned about what damage it might do to his components if it continues spreading

Mushroom:

Elffe:

solar i am holding a hand out to you. elffebrine

(translation: what if Elffe was Herobrine. glowy eyes, teleportation, cryptid energy)

has mushrooms and crimson vines growing on him. that's probably fine

in contrast to Spruce being unnaturally cold, Elffe is unnaturally warm. radiates heat, melts snow and ice, etc

Artemis:

god i wish i knew literally anything abt artemis. please log back on all i know is that fallow thinks youre cool

End:

Neon:

cyborg, but in a cassette futurism way. 90s clunky electronics.

hard to tell how much of him is organic and how much isn't. has large bulky metal parts, but also faint lines of neon green circuitry that show through his skin.

is a bit run-down and weathered after being stranded with Leon. he was starting to rust :(

Leon:

chinstrap penguin :3

non-anthropomorphic because it's funny. scaled up to be average human size, though

has ender particles drifting off him

slowly transforming into more of an End creature because of his dependence on chorus fruit

[vexillumvixen]

I’ve got an idea for a hellaverse mythology AU

Hazbin characters

Charlie-Faun

Vaggie-Fairy(Cursed)

Angel Dust- Jorogumo(Cursed)

Alastor-Centaur(Deer form)(Cursed)

Niffty-Oni(one horned)

Husk-Spinx(Cursed)

Sir Pentious-Naga

Cherri Bomb-Drop Bear

Lucifer-Winged Naga(Cursed-formerly a fairy)

Lilith-Siren(Cursed)

Rosie-Ghoul

Zeezi- Dragon

Zestial-Vampire

Carmilla Carmine-Harpy

Odette and Clara-Humans

Vox-Raiju

Velvette-Elf(Witch)

Valentino-Incubus(non hellaverse variant)

Razzle and Dazzle-Dragons

Sara-Fairy Queen

Emily-Fairy Princess

Adam-Human/Fairy(Hybrid)

Lute-Fairy Warrior

Peter-Fairy

Molly-Fairy/Jorogumo(hybrid)

Helluva Boss characters

Blitz(o)-Troll

Millie-Troll

Moxxie-Troll

Loona-Werewolf

Stolas-Human(Sorcerer)

Octavia-Human(Sorceress in training)

Stella-Human(Sorceress)

Sallie May-Troll

Wally Wackford-Troll

Striker-Troll/Lamia(hybrid-Tail of a serpent)

Verosika Mayday-Huldra

Vortex-Werewolf

Barbie Wire-Troll

Fizzarolli-Troll

Crimson-Troll

Chaz-Merman(Shark Variant)

Paimon-Human(Sorcerer)

Andrealphus-Human(Ice Sorcerer)

Glitz and Glam-Water Nymphs

Asmodeus-Griffin(Rooster Variant)

Beelzebub-Kitsune

Mammon-Bunyip

Cletus-Pixie

Collin-Pixie

Keenie-Pixie

Deerie-Pixie

[scienceambersandfantasy]

Caprimen

[goldensmilingbird]

I remembered when I was fixated on Monster High for a brief period, I had a Miraculous MH AU brewing in my head. I lost my original notes, so I tried to remember and note my ideas down. (If you have suggestions, feel free to add, I'm just brainstorming)

I like the idea of Graham de Vanilys being this old, rich vampire family, and Gabriel being human or another monster, like a werewolf. In MH universe there's still a rift between humans and monsters and prejudice against mixing different monster types + ancient vampire/werewolf rivalry. So I could see Adrien's grandparents resenting him for being a result of such a wrong union and him having to hide his half monster heritage (filing down his fangs, for example, if he's half human, or Gabriel editing out his monster parts in his photos) (I'm going off MH logic where vampires show up on camera)

But also I'm partial to frankenmonster Adrien because, like Frankie Stein, who came to school at just 15 days old, he's optimistic and a bit naive and just wants to make friends. And also in the context of "Frankenstein", the Creature was neglected by its creator (I still haven't read the original book, forgive me)

For Felix, I liked that in MH G3, Draculaura is a vampire studying to be a witch which is seen as something forbidden, and I just feel like it would fit him. Also could give him a fun dynamic with Marinette - like "okay, I won't tell anyone you're practicing witchcraft BUT you have to teach me".

Anyway, I imagine Felix used to be at vampire boarding school but after Colt's death, he asks Amelie to transition him to the same school Adrien wants to go to. So they're both newcomers. (Also I think Felix should get to kill his dad. Since vampires can't get sick or age, you know)

Felix - vampire

Adrien - werecat / frankenmonster?

Marinette - witch

Alya - kitsune?

Nino - idk merperson or sea monster maybe?

Chloe - bee monster / werecat?

Sabrina - insivible monster / zombie?

Lila - kitsune

Alix - alien

Kagami - dragon

Luka - naga

Kim - flying monkey

Ondine - undine (duh)

Max - pterocentaur (pegasus/centaur)

Mylene - dryad/plant monster or wererat

Ivan - golem / minotaur

Rose - cupid or cupid/plant monster hybrid

Juleka - invisible monster / weretiger?

Marc - faun (I don't want Nath to be the goat)

Nath - phoenix

[kiame-sama]

do you regret making some of the TWST boys certain creatures and not others? Just curious since so many of them seem to fit so well

(Me bitching about my own ideas, so if you want to see what creatures I was stuck between and why I went with other species, feel free to read on!)

I wish I made Deuce an egg-eating lizard because of his actual obsession with eggs, but I wanted him to be similar to Ace so they could clash/compliment one another better. Satyrs and Fauns are typically seen as interchangeable minus the cultures they originate from depicting their tempers towards Humans as different with Fauns typically being the helping kind and Satyrs being the tricksters.

I also wish I made Cater a fox or a kitsune because it makes more sense than a water nymph given his sly nature and mischievous behavior. But I wanted him to be a water creature so that he can bother Trey on land and in water since Trey is a Kelpie and Cater is always going to accompany/bother Trey any chance he gets.

I contemplated making Neige a siren (going more for the bird-lady pesudo-harpy traditional siren appearance, not the mostly human appearance they have become in recent media), but I felt he was too cutesy for what was typically depicted as a sex icon so I figured it would be better story-wise and conflict-wise with Vil to make him a Harpy as well.

I almost made Divus a Jackal-headed hybrid (think Anubis but with the spots of a dalmatian) but his fur coat that he constantly wears screamed Selkie to me (and seals still call their young Pups, so it worked out really well).

I was tempted to make Kalim an otter based on Floyd's nickname, but that didn't make much sense for his arid home country and sand-themed dorm. Why not make Jamil take care of the most useless Genie to ever walk Twisted Wonderland when he so desperately wants and actual Genie (canon) that can perform magic at a high-level. Sucks to suck, snake boi, you now get to babysit a near useless air-head Genie who is only good at making an Oasis and messes up every other wish.

Some came with their beast halves already canon (Malleus, Ruggie, Leona, Jack, Azul, Floyd, Jade, Crowley)

And some were so close to an animal in their icons and behavior that they just had to be certain species (Lilia-Bat, Vil-Peacock, Jamil- Sand Viper)

Some I wanted to make different colors to match closer to their canon appearances (Vil= albino peacock) or even different subspecies (Neige= Willow Grouse) but later decided to override those ideas for different reasons. (Vil would NOT settle for being one color only and being so drab as to only have white feathers, he would dye them to look like a regular peacock) (Willow Grouse have funny and janky as hell calls, since he is supposed to have a lovely voice I decided to make him a Mourning Dove instead despite the color match of both summer and winter plumage for the Willow Grouse and RSA uniforms)

[best-fantasy-mythical-creature]

Best fantasy creatures!

This tournament was the result of @tournamentideatournament. This tournament will decide Tumblr`s favorite mythical creature! Follow to see the progress.

The first 64 submissions will be used in this tournament. Please send in all your ideas and reblog for more attention. Human hybrids also count. (centaurs, fauns, mermaids). Submissions are via asks.

WARNING!!! Some of these could be quite scary.

submissions are closed

Tagging:@bestsiblingstournament@best-animal-bracket@ultimatepokemontournament@respectthewolf@randomreasonstolive@bestpokemonevertournament@bestgirlsnametournament@worstinsultsever@catsthatlooklikepinupgirls @lunarnamesbracket@dead-character-showdown @the-ultimate-tournament @hellsite-hungergames@dead-character-showdown @best-green-character @bestsiblingstournament @bestgirlsnametournament @best-fictional-cat @hellsite-hungergames @the-ultimate-tournament @thelittlestguy-tournament @the-nobody-tournament

[legofanguy1999]

Spooktober day 9 tafidermy/horns

A story for @tyronedatiger event Spooktober day 9 tafiedermy/horns.

Brinley wake up one Saturday morning and the brown hair boy walk over to his room mirror to put on a red shirt and pants, only for the 15 years old boy to saw something shocking and he scream, which alert her mother downstairs, when she was having her breakfast in her pink nightgown, and she call out, "Brinley, what is wrong, honey?" After putting on the red shirt and pants, Brinley come downstairs and said to his mother, "Mom, look!" revealing that he got small goat horns on his head, to his mother's shock and she soon call out, "James!" and a brown hair faun with bigger goat horns on his head and wearing a bathrobe come out of the kitchen with a coffee cup that read 'I'm the goat in the house.' and ask the human woman, "Yes, dear? What is it? Does it have something to do with why Brinely scream?" before James saw Brinley's horns and he said in shock, "Oh my Zeus, Brinley! You are growing your first horns, son. Your old man is so proud of you." The wife of James the faun ask her husband, "Why should you be proud about our son growling horns, James. He is going to get bullied by those who don't like faun for Hera sakes. Brinley may end up as a sex maniac like your cousin Korish." which James said to his human wife, "Callie, Korish was a Satyr and a former friend. We were not related at all. I don't get why people think Satyr and Fauns are the same. Beside, we were both wild in that party we first meet each other and later have Brinley." Speaking of Brinely, the teenage boy ask his father, "Dad, what about the horns?" and James said to his hybrid son, "I guess you can hide your horns if you feel uncomfortable with them, son."

[mkorpse13]

Time to ramble about my Ed Edd n Eddy Fantasy AU that I keep forgetting about.

I really like the idea of a lot of them being mythical creatures, it’s so fun to draw them as mythical creatures! I decided to give you guys the roles all the characters play in this au.

The pictures below each description is more of a reference than the actual design. Most designs will turn out to be much different from how the original design looked in each image.

(Any drawings of this au from the past are considered outdated as some of the designs have changed)

———————————————————————

Ed - Half dragon that is learning magic

Ed, like his sister is half dragon. He had more human features but he still has visible horns and sharp teeth. He wears a cloak and wizard hat with star and moon designs all over them.

He practices magic and mainly learns from the picture books he reads. He somehow learns way better from pictures than he does from actual spell books and actual magic classes.

Edd - Lizard Human Hybrid

Edd specializes in potions, and usually is a big help whenever you need a remedy for healing, strength, etc. He mostly is going on adventures with his two best friends.

Eddy - Jester

When he isn’t entertaining the royalty, he is usually scamming the towns people or stealing with the help of his two friends.

Kevin - Royal Guard in Training

He’s usually riding around on his horse or is training to be the top guard.

Rolf - Faun

His family had recently traveled up to the village know as “Peach Creek”, where he meets his new friends. He is mostly seen at his farm, but sometimes has the free time to goof off with Kevin and Nazz.

Nazz - Mermaid

She is usually found near the ocean talking with the village boys who make attempts to date her, she usually brushes them all off. When she isn’t being flirted with she’s usually hanging out with Kevin whenever he isn’t training.

(Didn’t have a picture for her 😭)

Jimmy - Princess

Jimmy prefers to be referred to as a princess and wear a princess dress as he thinks it makes him look more royal. He enjoys long walks in his garden or secretly running off to go enjoy his time with his friends of Peach Creek.

Sarah - Human Dragon Hybrid

She is very fond of gold and treasure and tends to hide it from everyone else, although she gives Jimmy some when she feels generous. She has the more dragon features out of her and Ed.

Jonny - Elf

He is usually found in the woods hanging out with his buddy, Plank. He can clone himself using certain spells, and is quite helpful with direction or when you are lost in the woods.

Kanker Sisters - Witches

The three sisters are usually in their cottage far into the woods plotting their next evil plan against the people of Peack Creek.

This AU idea is so fun, hopefully I can and even maybe make fanfics for it in the future :D