ALTTerato Con is returning in 2027! 🎉😈
Feb 13th 2027, Widcome Social Club (Bath, UK).
Tickets are now on sale, all details and info are on the official website https://teratocon.wordpress.com
Full day event featuring artist alley, panels, evening chill out social and film screening (tickets sold separately for film).
Celebrating the love of all things Monster!
ALTBetter hurry! This is your last day to submit your art or writing for M❤️NSTER Spring 2026.
(If you are not comfortable filling out a Google Form, please DM or e-mail the team!)
Did time get away from you? M❤️NSTER Summer 2026 AND Fall 2026 will both have calls for submissions later this year. Read our FAQ for more information or contact the team if you have any questions.
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Restless with the idea of how his lover would look in Hell, Ba'al makes the trip to the surface to kidnap his favorite priest.
Tags: Porn without plot, Teratophillia (Goat Wechuge x Demon), humiliation, docking (briefly),
(I wrote this Oct2025 while drunk and in a different app so if it reads funny that’s why. My apologies for the awkward format and I hope y'all enjoy <3)
He tried. He really did!
But it seems that Satan cannot sleep alone anymore.
Ba'aloch groans and runs his hands down his face in irritation– if he just had his precious little Judas goat here…
…Well maybe he could be.
Ba'aloch sits up in bed and sluggishly pulls on his house robe with a goal in mind.
After a brief stretch the king snaps his claws to open a rip to the overworld, smiling fondly when he sees Gabriel and Thomas curled up in the cottage bed together.
He steps through while being mindful of his volume level and borrows the notepad by the bed to write a note for Gabriel.
‘Borrowing our husband. Love, Ba'al-Zebub’
Satisfied with his rushed work Ba'aloch tosses the pen aside and gently shakes his husband awake
Thomas grunts and covers his eyes with the blanket “fuck off–”
Ba'aloch snorts quietly and shakes Thomas again “This demon is dragging you to hell, Za'am Katan.”
Thomas pulls the blanket down and squints at Ba'aloch, his husband is in his more hellish form with four arms and a taller hunched over posture
“…Heyyy…” Thomas drawls in a sleepy but flirtatious purr that makes the devil laugh.
“You’re drunk… Perfect.” Ba'aloch scoops Thomas into his arms and kisses his cheeks
Thomas tilts his head and wraps his arms around the Satan’s neck “Why is that perfect?”
Ba'aloch smirks and walks back to the portal, stepping through calmly. “You don’t want to be sober for this.”
Before Thomas can ask another question he feels the air ripped from his lungs when they step through to the pit; his body aches and burns for what feels like minutes but is really just a second
“Ooh… fuck.” He groans as sharp pain stabs his temples, making him reach up to– Horns?
Ba'aloch is scanning every detail of Thomas’ face with a smitten expression “…You look stunning.”
“Mirror. Now.” Thomas demands as Ba'aloch carries him through the halls of his manor
“Patience.” The devil chides his consort and pushes open the master bedroom door with a small grin
When Ba'aloch sets him down in front of the vanity Thomas goes completely silent.
He’s… Well as far as he can tell he is a goat headed wechuge– A lich, if you will. Nothing as large as a genuine deer headed wechuge but that must be because he only eats sinners.
Thomas hesitantly reaches up to feel his skull, thoroughly psyched out at this point while Ba'aloch stands behind; still towering over Thomas even in the man’s new form.
Finally the lich speaks “…what the fuck am I supposed to do with th– Uh.” He has to pause because seeing his jaw stay motionless while words effortlessly tumble out is confusing for him.
“I need a second.” He mumbles and turns back to the mirror with concern in his eye lights.
Ba'aloch does not give Thomas a second and puts his hands on his shoulders, leaning in to murmur against his horns. “Self conscious?” He asks in a whisper
“…No” Thomas lies and lets his hands drop to his side, still looking at his new reflection “… Am I stuck like this forever now?”
“Just when you’re in the pit, mea vita.” The devil utters back an explanation while sliding his hands down Thomas’ new bulky figure.
“When I walk the earth only you, Gabriel, and a few other high priests can see me for what I really am; this is no different.”
Thomas’ shoulders slump in relief and he chuckles “Well that’s goo–”
Ba'aloch cuts him off with an amused rumble “But I would avoid black mirrors and giving baptisms.”
The goat skulled man 'blinks’; it’s more like his eye lights dim just to brighten again.
“That was Gabriel’s job anyways.”
He watches in the reflection as his husband gets more curious, soft nuzzles against his new horns making Thomas’ eye lights dim further.
It hadn’t occurred to him that horns are erogenous and now he regrets not spoiling Ba'aloch’s
“Mnn.. Is this the only reason you dragged me down here?” Thomas asks thickly
Ba'aloch closes his mouth just as he was about to lick a stripe over one of the ridges “…Sort of. I wanted to get you used to the underworld before the ball.” He admits quietly
Now that Thomas has accepted his new appearance he takes a look around Ba'aloch’s bedroom; redwood furniture with black upholstery and deep blue bedding.
There’s a polaroid lying on the nightstand and Thomas walks over to grab it before Ba'aloch can stop him
“H-hey wait –”
Thomas ignores his husband and looks at the photo, his jaw going slack in somewhat of a smile since he’s only bones in the face.
It’s a picture of himself and Gabriel sleeping together in the angel’s clergy room.
“…How did you get this?” He asks softly
Ba'aloch approaches from behind and plucks the photo from Thomas’ fingers to put it back on the nightstand “Never ask the devil how he did it, just know it has been done….”
He drops the faux seriousness tone with a chuckle and shoves Thomas onto the bed “And I’ll probably do it again.”
Thomas bleats in surprise; Yes, bleats– and catches himself on his hands and knees “fuck.” He groans in embarrassment from the sound he made “B… Ba'al, you dick.”
Ba'aloch runs a clawed finger down Thomas’ spine, only a thin piece of fabric there that’s stretched from the priest’s transformation.
“Aren’t you curious about your form?” He purrs slowly
“…A little.” He swallows around the drool pooling in his jaws, unused to such a beastly response yet
The devil presses his hips against Thomas through their sleep pants and leans over the smaller man, imitating doggy style through their clothes
Thomas moans when he feels Ba'aloch’s bull cock already throbbing and eagerly presses back
“My Judas goat…” Ba'aloch growls against his husband’s ear and starts grinding harder, earning a groan from them both
“H..haa.. p-pleaase–” the man’s begs turn into another bleat that has him whining from embarrassment and Ba'aloch panting harder from arousal
The king has had enough and pulls back to untie his robe “On your back. I want to see that new cock of yours.”
That grabs Thomas’ attention and he flops onto his back, shyly pulling off his shirt first so Ba'aloch can see the added muscle and his new grey skintone.
“Fuck.” Is all the King can come up with for thought when he tosses his robe aside– Greedily his hands slide down the padding of Thomas’ stomach just to hook his thumbs in the priest’s waistband
Ba'aloch tugs them down and makes a low noise of approval
Thomas’ dick is still pierced but now it’s taken more of a tapered appearance at the tip and is much thicker than before at the bottom; it’s even leaking a steady dribble of precum just for Ba'aloch.
“Mmn..” Thomas’ eyelights flick off once there’s no hope for him to pull out of this deep need, his skeletal jaw going completely slack as his hot breath fogs the space between him and Ba'aloch
Ba'aloch looks between Thomas’ large tongue and his cock in indecision, then settles for leaning forward to kiss Thomas deeply while stroking the priest’s demonhood
“Mmph…m-nnh” Thomas’ moans are choked down by Ba'aloch’s tongue wrapping around his own much like a serpent, and when it’s done there the prince drags it across the incisors on Thomas’ goat skull
Ba'aloch is slowly rolling his hips while pumping Thomas’ cock. “You’re going to make a lot of people envious, Thomas… You’ll look too good on my hip.” aforementioned hips snap forward and they both pant
Thomas nods dumbly and leans in for another kiss “C…can we frot?” he begs quietly
The devil pushes his own sleep pants off and pants lightly when he rubs their tips together “Too boring. You’re in Hell, Tommy.”
A shaky moan is pulled from Thomas when he feels Ba'aloch dock his bull cock onto his own goat one; it’s sinful how well they fit. “Fffuck w-warn me next time–” he gasps and grips the sheets under himself
Ba'aloch huffs and leans forward, their horns clack together when he does and it makes him whine
Even he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed demon sex.
Thomas smiles and begins rolling his hips to meet Ba'aloch half way, holding eye contact the entire time
He can practically see the prince crumbling and feel the way his walls flutter around his cock– He tries something.
“Good boy, Ba'aloch… Keep going~” Thomas growls in his new hellish timber, making the prince moan and grip the sheets by Thomas’ head even harder
Baaloch’s hips begin to stutter as he eases more of Thomas in, a needy moan forcing it’s way out.
This is no way for a prince to act but he can’t help it anymore– “T… Thomas” he gasps against his shoulder
Thomas snakes his arms around Ba'aloch’s neck and answers in a breathless drawl “Take what you need. I can handle it–”
Ba'aloch makes a small groan and doesn’t need further consent, pulling out in favor of grinding his flared tip against Thomas’ hole, earning a loud bleat sound when the prince pushes in all at once
The devil’s length fills Thomas perfectly and he wastes no time in greedily pumping his girth in and out of the man’s tight hole, much to the man’s delight.
“B… Ba'al! Aagh–” Thomas cuts himself off when he makes another embarrassing goat noise, to which Ba'aloch pulls his lover’s legs higher for a better angle to force more of those noises out
“Give it to me… Let me hear the animal that was stuck inside.” He growls and uses his tail to pull Thomas down on each thrust in
Thomas’s jaw hangs open and his tongue lolls out from the new intensity swallowing his mind up entirely
Words fail both of them and Ba'aloch begins making a low bellowing sound when his cock bottoms out to bulge his partner’s stomach
He doesn’t have to be careful here in Hell and it’s just what they both needed.
“B… H-harder!” Thomas manages to squeal out as he drags his claws down Baaloch’s forearms
Ba'aloch nods dumbly and growls as he picks the pace up, drool dripping down Thomas’ neck as he leaves sloppy bites all over the goat lich’s shoulder
The antique bed creaks in protest but Ba'aloch can’t afford to care, making another desperate snarl as his orgasm keeps evading his grasp
Thomas grabs Ba'aloch by the horns and licks his face, laughing when the demon looks surprised
“You–” Ba'aloch growls and kisses Thomas deeply, a shaky moan bubbling from his chest when their tongues twist together once more “Haah.. T-tom..”
Thomas’s right hand slides to the prince’s lower back and he tugs at his tail hard
The keening noise that comes from Ba'aloch is more human than he’d like, and his body’s reaction is immediate as his knot throbs hard and locks them in place
“Ffuck, yes!” Thomas groans in approval when he feels Ba'aloch’s hips stuttering– the devil is so close!
“T… Mnnhh…” Baaloch’s moans turn into bellows and he slows down to focus on bottoming out each hard thrust
“C…come on, give it to me–” the lich whines while jerking his cock clumsily, not quite used to the new size or his claws yet
Ba'aloch looks between their bodies with lidded eyes and huffs as he clenches his eyes shut
Thomas knows that look and hugs his husband close when he deposits his seed with a tremulous groan
It takes a second for the demon to calm down and then he realizes his partner didn’t finish
“Thomas I’m s–”
He’s silenced with a tender kiss and a gentle smile “We have all night, Lord.”
“…Yeah. Yeah we do.” Ba'aloch agrees and begins rolling his hips slowly again, relishing in the needy sounds coming from Thomas
“That’s right… We’ll get there eventually.” He coos and adds some force to his thrusts
Thomas is crying out in ecstasy from the loving pace and gripping at Baaloch’s shoulders “B… Ba'al I’m… Oohh~”
Ba'aloch grunts and snaps his hips “Say it.”
That last snap makes Thomas howl and spill his seed on himself with a bleating noise “C- Cumming! I’m – Ooh fuck!”
“Good boy.” Ba'aloch croons and gives Thomas one last slow kiss as he pulls out
Semen leaks out of Thomas’ hole and he hisses from the cold feeling once Ba'aloch has pulled back
“Let’s get you washed, Za'am Ktan.”
Thomas sighs and nods. So much for his bath earlier.
ALTThat’s right! Just a few more days to put the finishing touches on your art or writing before the submission window for M❤️NSTER Spring 2026 closes.
(If you are not comfortable filling out a Google Form, please DM or e-mail the team!)
Read M❤️NSTER on itch.io | Follow M❤️NSTER on X, Instagram, and Blue Sky
Temperature play with an angel that burns brighter and hotter the more desperately aroused she is
content: tiny fairies/human!scientist!reader, another threatened vore, indentured sex servitude kind of, honestly this one is pretty tame and pretty cute
How you’d disturbed the fairy nest really wasn’t as important to you as what happened once you did. You didn’t even know fairies had nests before you’d been swarmed by dozens of tiny winged things no bigger than your index finger. And then there were vines wrapping around you and over you, binding your body tight and dragging you against the nearest tree.
“How do you expect to compensate us for the destruction of our home?”
Destruction seemed a bit extreme, you wanted to say. Unfortunately, the tiny winged creature bearing a gleaming crown had ordered you gagged before asking you.
You tried to speak, muffled as you were, through the gag, but all that came out were vague indecipherable sounds.
“Too loud, too clumsy, what good are big things like you?” The fairy monarch demanded.
You hummed quieter through your gag, doing your best to whisper without words.
The audience, some dozens of fairies that had witnessed the “destruction” and gathered in rows to watch what was apparently your trial, jeered and threw seeds at you. Which seemed unnecessary. But you had, apparently, destroyed their home.
“Release the giant’s gag so it may defend itself,” the monarch ordered.
The cloth, which you thought might have been a sleeve torn off of a human shirt, was untied and fell from your mouth.
“I’m just here to collect samples,” you whispered in a hushed tone. “And then I’ll be on my way.”
“What kind of samples?” Shrieked the monarch.
You could tell that she thought your samples would be like the types where butterflies were pinned by their wings.
“Uh… biological samples… reproductive biological samples…”
[[MORE]]After so many encounters, you could hardly do anything but lean into being a monster biologist. Especially focusing on reproduction of endangered monster species. It was what sent you out here, a decline in forests translating to a decline in forest-reliant monstrous species. And then you’d endangered a species on your own.
It would have been funny if they didn’t have dagger-like needles pointed at you while you were tied to a tree.
“I see…”
The monarch clapped their hands and the surrounding fairies stood to attention.
“Citizens! I believe that the giant was attempting to contact us when they destroyed our home. Out of respect for their mission of science, I’ve decided to provide them with the samples they require.”
Your face lit up with a smile. This first stroke of good luck you’d had all day.
“If!”
Laughter followed your falling expression.
“If they provide us with a suitable new home!”
You frowned but nodded solemnly. Even if you doubted their nest was destroyed, it would hardly be a problem for you to find a new house for them. Maybe one of those bug boxes at the garden center.
“Now! You may test this giant for our new home! And provide them with the samples they need!”
You blinked in confusion and alarm as they began to swarm you. A chaotic thumping of bodies landing on you, of fairies diving into your pockets and perching on your shoulders. Some started to move your hands, curling them palms up and fingers splayed apart.
The monarch eyed you mischievously.
“You see, giant, we only nest when it’s time to bring the new generation. Your timing seems to be fated. We will use you for our mating nest. I hope you’re prepared to wear the samples of your experiment.”
Fairies began to lower themselves onto your fingers, grinding damp little slits against your fingertips and screaming with pleasure. Your pockets were being used as beds, you looked into your shirt pocket and saw one fairy bent over and being pounded by another. A small group of them began to remove your pants and you moaned when they found the source of your own arousal there.
As they began to experiment, pulling and thrusting and teasing you with their small bodies and smaller hands, the monarch pointed their golden scepter at you.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, giant,” they commanded.
You complied, the now full focus of no less than three fairies on your own pleasure driving you to distraction.
The monarch lowered themself, lifting their petal skirt, onto the tip of your tongue.
They tasted like sweetness. Like sugar and honey and molasses. Like roses and lavender and cherry blossoms. You resisted the urge to curl your tongue and drag them to your mouth to swallow them whole. They rode your tongue, bucking and moaning wildly as they catapulted towards their own pleasure. When they came, a burst of sweetness exploded on your tongue, so intoxicating that you felt your own orgasm crest to the delight and surprise of the fairies that had been seeing to your own pleasure.
The monarch wiped the sweat from their brow and fluttered their wings to hover in front of your face once more.
“That was a satisfactory test. Release the giant!”
Your bonds began to fall away and fairies began to leave your fingertips dripping with their juices and your clothes stained from their excursions.
“Thank you,” you said mildly, still blissed out from your release spent on the forest floor.
“Oh we’re not done, giant. You are our nest for the rest of the season. I simply thought you may want to move. We will be with you.”
“How long does this mating season last?” You asked with a nervous laugh.
“Five winters or so,” they explained calmly. “I do hope that you remain warm and enthusiastic for all of it.”
Hahaha, the plot twist of the century! 😆
I like to imagine the counter actually had a transparent display case the whole time without the naga realizing 😅
Nessy (Alligator) She/Her - Lesbian
Desmir (Doberman Pinscher) He/Him - Pansexual
Krag (White Rhinoceros) He/Him - Pansexual
content warning: i said angels aren’t monsters and then i also said unless i do this, M!Reader/Angel, m!preg, religious tones (they aren’t under, its angels), psychic sex
The voice that disturbed your sleep was anything but soothing. You jolted into wakefulness, sitting upright on your cot so quickly that the legs bent and sent you sprawling onto your tent floor. Archeologists at a dig site did not afford the best of accommodations. As much as you didn’t complain, you weren’t the biggest fan of being suddenly thrown to the ground by your furniture. But the furniture was not the person to blame this time.
“Who…?” You rubbed your eyes, willing wakefulness into them.
It took you a moment to decipher the words that blended into each other. The words that disrupted and distorted the reality of your tent, flickering it into the vastness of space and the depths of the ocean. You couldn’t think. You closed your eyes again.
“Whaddoo want?” The wakefulness you’d rubbed into your eyes had not reached your leaden tongue.
“I’m not? So… what do you want?”
You risked opening your eyes. You seemed to have shocked it into something like silence. The walls of your tent weren’t shifting reality anymore at least. Even though the dull humming persisted. It ached your bones, like someone had found the exact wrong frequency of a tuning fork.
The creature that you could only look at out of the corner of your eye was still shifting through reality. Now a burning wheel of fire with eyes that focused on you all at once; now a small squat body with the head of a lion, a goat, a man, and an eagle; now a warm cup of tea spilling onto endless golden clouds. The walls of your tent turned to the inside of a volcano and you closed your eyes again.
“I’m glad. Now… can I go back to sleep or…”
You felt the celestial equivalent of the universe’s messenger clearing its throat.
“Um,” you interrupted god’s messenger, “I’m not really… kind of capable? Of bearing children?”
“Yeah, there’s the whole… I mean with breeding pairs I’m… It just doesn’t work.”
“Well… maybe somebody got the paperwork wrong?”
Silence. Too long of a silence. You chanced opening your eyes and saw the messenger of your fate changing between the ring of fire and a sword made entirely of light and then a babe in a haystack.
“I mean… if you really want to try?” You offered.
The monotone of the angel did not convey punctuation very well, but you assumed it was a question.
“Yeah, I mean… to… impregnate me? That’s the goal, right?”
“I hate to break it to you, but that’s not how babies are made.”
You didn’t argue. It seemed upset. And you’d read the stories of what happened to people who angered angels.
“So… are you going to slow the shapeshifting or…” You chanced, instead of arguing. Your hands were already working on your clothes.
“Then how…?” Your hands stopped.
You did as you were told and only felt a little silly when you realized your cot was still not fully furniture.
You knew that nothing touched your body. You were still mostly dressed, your hands not quicker than the angel’s rejection of anatomical simplicity, and your skin felt cold and untouched. But you felt with the same other sense that heard the humming of the angelic tuning fork, something touching you. Hands ran down your chest, at once strong and feather soft. Thick calluses manhandled you, groping and squeezing and massaging places that you weren’t even sure could have been touched. Something like your mind and your heart being groped in a way that was so sensual you could almost come from that touch alone. At the same time the hands were light and dainty, so delicate in their touch that it almost tickled. Like your entire nervous system was being stroked. Chills bubbled along your spine and your gasp was so audible that you opened your eyes.
There was the angel, shifting in shape and size. And there were the walls of your tent, shifting in reality and material.
You let your eyelids fall heavy and relaxed back into the in between state where you were being subjected to the heaviest and lightest petting of your life. You moaned as those touches found your nipples and the bundle of nerves that lit up like fireworks. Your nipples were teased, rolled between unrelenting fingers and pinched. They were also caressed and licked, a gentle breath cooling the wet streak of saliva that you knew logically wasn’t there. You reached, still, to grab the head and hands that were treating you so beautifully.
The voice echoed through you so intensely that you wanted to sob. In one part of your senses, the groping continued: your nipples teased and twisted so much that you cried out. In another part, those strong hands and dainty fingers traced down your body until they found the hard line of you. Until they found your core. You felt at once fingers and tongues plunging into you, into a womb you knew you did not have; and firm hands grasping your cock and stroking it into delicate lips.
You writhed, your hands fisting into the ruin of your cot. You felt those imaginary hands plunging into you, filling you with sweet release and stretching you beyond what you should have enjoyed. You saw, in that in between state of mental imagery, your stomach expanding. You felt the very real sensation of your release, a splatter of cum across your legs and the cot.
You opened your eyes with an orgasmic moan and saw the shape of the burning wheel again. Its eyes watched you.
“Glorious,” you murmured, eyes half lidded with bliss.
You laughed. It changed into a burning fire as tall as mountains.
The plurality of that sentence was not lost on you.
Masterlist for draconic monsters
Fics
Dayspring Academy: The Librarian (m!dragon x genderfluid intersex reader)
Dragon Tasting (rr, m!dragon x fem!reader)
Fair Wind (m!dragon x mtf!reader)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Original Work
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Reader, Original Non-Human Character(s)/Reader
Characters: Reader, Faith (OC)
Additional Tags: Monsterfucking | Teratophilia, Werewolves, Body Worship, Gender-Neutral Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus
Faith hates her name.
It’s not as if she dislikes the way it falls from her tongue. And it’s certainly not through a dislike of how it sounds on yours, especially when she tells you how well you chant it. A prayer, soft and whispered.
She says it’s a silly reason, but something pained catches in her sharpened eyes each time you pursue the subject. When she catches her name spoken aloud, her ears prick up as if to answer in deeds rather than words.
i need to taste his disgusting rotten mouth, i bet his tongue has holes and his breath smells like rotten meat, and he drools sooo much 😵💫 and he’ll be like “ambrooossshhheee… dooo iii taaassshhhttteee baaad?” and i’ll just figuratively eat his fucking face to feel better
Hi Tumblr!
I’m not new here. This is a side blog I’ve made for a recently discovered love (read: kink, probably) of orcs.
I will eventually start writing fics and imagines and things like that, but for now I am trying to explore content, get a feel for the community, and just enjoy what all you lovelies are out here sharing!
I am already working on a few things, but I would love any input on what kinds of content you are yearning for here! I aim to please 😉 Everything I write will be posted here and on AO3. I’m waiting on an invite with the same username as I have here.
Also, please feel free to suggest tags I should follow and use on my posts! I want to make sure everyone who wants the content gets the content!
Thanks for being your unapologetically weird ass selves ❤️
Tickets available now! Join us 13th Feb 2027, Bath UK, for a day of monster love appreciation!
(Terato Con is an 18+ day event. Age ID is required on entry)
You always kept yourself in isolation, especially from the humans that traversed through your domain. For being as long-lived as you are, you thought it would be easier to live in solitude than to outlive those you love - particularly your worshipers - but you couldn’t help but find yourself intrigued by one peculiar human.
“And these Zingiber zerumbet are exquisite! I have no doubt that you truly care for your forest,” the man beside you exclaims, his bright amber eyes gleaming with every praise that flows from his lips.
You weren’t sure how long it had been since he discovered you, but it felt like he has never left your side since. He told you many things about himself, some of which you’ve forgot — or just didn’t understand. Despite the missing context, you enjoyed his company and unconsciously found your tail circling around him and your body leaning further and further into his space —
“Oh! S-sorry, was I rambling too much,” he stops talking and a sheepish blush dusts his cheeks as he motions away from your face, just inches away from his.
“Of course not, I find your passions quite amusing. Please, continue,” you say without pulling away, trying not to grin as the red on his face deepens.
“O-oh! w-well then, let me see what else I have today,” he averts as amber gaze and digs into his backpack full of research notes.
Cute. Too cute, you think to yourself and pull away to give him space. He is an amusing human indeed, and you’re looking forward to spend a long time with him.
Of course I can!
So, indecent exposure refers to the deliberate, most often public, display of one’s genitals or private body parts. It is also referred to as “flashing” and generally an offense.
However, depending on societal rules, different things can be considered indecent exposure. For example, a certain group might find the exposure of bare thighs or shoulders indecent, while another is totally okay with everyone going around completely naked.
Or in other words, I can write a fic with a setting where it is shocking to publicly reveal your bare legs (like a Victorian era type story), or one where you can just run around butt naked (like the nudist movement in Germany called FKK). But in my stories, no one will deliberately use their nakedness to shock or offend others.
Also, some monsters might be running around naked, but they are covered in fur or feathers or scales so they don’t look naked unless they decide to wear like a loincloth. Like, take a werewolf in Regency era clothing and then take off his coat and waistcoat and shirt in a public setting, and suddenly the unclothed furry upper body of the werewolf is something indecently exposed. Alternatively, there could be a clan of reptilian humanoids who not only run around naked, but also consider the direct exposure of their erect genitals to someone super sexy attractive courting behavior instead of indecent.
So, to account for these flexible differences (because societal norms and stuff), I have stated it as quoted above.
Thank you very much for asking! 😊💛
Available adoptable - offer to adopt!
If offering art, please state what you’re offering (eg. “1 chibi character in this style [link to style])”, and please be ready to complete it in 1 month!
Reblogs are super appreciated!
Thank you! :3 PS. If you become an owner of one of characters I designed, you can use them for anything you please, no rules! You can also freely resell/trade/gift them. And if you are using Toyhouse, I can transfer the character to you on there.
I keep getting an ad for one of those free novel apps that’s definitely full of AI slop but the one it keeps looping right now is a reverse harem monster fucker thing with a splash of voyeurism and size difference. Like damn man that’s kinda hot I wish I was better at writing smut…
Content: reader gender not explicitly described, plant monster, horror (just a little bit), stalking (in a yandere way), mild blood and gore and animal abuse, dead rabbit do not eat, dub con we’ll say, ok maybe its mostly horror
Your first foray into the study of monstrous biology and anatomy was… unexpected to say the least. This time, you had a suspicion of what you were getting into. You knew you were being followed for some time before the creature broke into your home. And you weren’t the only person who had noticed your stalker; friends expressed concern, colleagues expressed interest, and you waved away their questions. After all, last time you’d met a monster it had gone so well for you. You wanted to see how this turned out.
It was the curse of scientific curiosity.
When it broke into the lab after you went home for the night, you knew you had to do something about it. And not just because your colleagues threatened you about their disrupted experiments. This thing had questions and it seemed to think you could answer them.
And then you woke up to the sound of glass breaking. You sat upright in bed, heart pushing adrenaline through your body faster than you thought was entirely reasonable. Probably someone just threw away recycling. Probably.
When no axe murderers came charging into your room, you convinced yourself it was safe to go back to sleep. You never noticed the beady black eyes watching you from your doorway.
What you did notice in the morning was a living room window broken and muddy foot prints all over your floors. The same muddy foot prints that had been found in the lab. They were bare feet and all you could think, for just a moment before the fear had a chokehold on you, was how they came in barefoot and didn’t cut themself on the broken glass.
That night you waited awake until your eyes burned, until you started to nod off, your head tilting down to your chest. This needed to stop. You needed to see what was following you, what was breaking into the places you spent your time, what had those bare cold feet.
And then you felt a tickle at the spot behind your ear. You slapped at it, hitting branches of your house plant.
And then you remembered you didn’t have a house plant.
You jumped up, senses kicking into full gear so fast that you felt certain you were still dreaming.
Beside the chair you’d fallen asleep in was a woman. She stared at you, black pupilless eyes following you as you went from sitting to standing. She was naked, her bare feet covered in mud and her hands streaked with it. And instead of hair, leaves and stems grew from her head. Your hand desperately groped for a light switch and when it brought the lights on, you watched her hiss and dive for the table. But you saw the moment of woody skin, of bark-like lines and root-like tendrils on her legs. And you saw the glass embedded in her black feet.
“Sorry, sorry, no light,” you called and fumbled to flip them off again.
She glared at you in the dim light the street gave through the windows. A car passed by, its headlights catching the black pebbles of her eyes and gleaming off of them, like a shiny rock at the bottom of a river catching moonlight.
She stayed there, staring at you. Not that you could see her very well in the dark, crouched like a frightened animal under your table. But you knew she didn’t move. And you knew she didn’t blink.
You puttered around, cleaning up the new muddy foot prints and in general acting like she wasn’t there. She only moved to keep her eyes trained on you while you worked. She didn’t make another sound, aside from the occasional rustle of the plant life on her head. She was so… unusual. And more unusual for her stillness and silence. But it was… almost nice. Having her company. And when you started to talk to her, even when she didn’t respond, you told her as much. When you ran out of things to clean, including every chore you’d ever put off, you crouched beside the table. She stayed exactly in place. She didn’t flinch away. She didn’t move towards you. You weren’t sure if you expected her to hide like a frightened animal or pounce like a viscous predator more. Either way, it wasn’t what you expected.
“I’m going to bed now. You can leave through the open window, please don’t break any more. I’ll leave a window open tomorrow night too.”
Glass was expensive afterall.
She didn’t respond. Didn’t move until you were facing away and heading towards your bed. You caught her shadow, lit by moving car lights and ambient street lighting, following you in slow steps. You pretended you didn’t notice, even while she stayed to watch you change into pajamas and even when she watched you crawl into bed. You tried to pretend you didn’t notice her watching you as you fell asleep.
The next night she didn’t break any windows. You weren’t sure if it was because you asked her not to or because you’d left one open, but you were pleased when you noticed her watching you in your kitchen and did not hear the sound of breaking glass. She followed after you, watching you in her sweet and bone chilling way. And then she would watch you until you fell asleep and be gone in the morning. This continued for some time. Eventually she started bringing you gifts. A rock (the same one she’d broken your window with, you thought), a beaker from the lab (you weren’t welcome back until your stalker was gone), and eventually a skinned and still breathing rabbit.
You’d screamed at that one, nearly as loud as the rabbit had when it woke up. You tried to explain pain to her. To explain why it was wrong. Why you and the rabbit screamed.
When she brought you another rabbit, this one with a torn out throat, you decided she hadn’t understood. You asked her not to bring you any more living things.
She didn’t come back for some time after that. You worried that she’d taken it to mean that as a living thing, she wasn’t welcome back. But you had no way to tell her otherwise. You had no way to tell her that you were lonely without her company. That you missed the way her beady eyes watched you, the shudder of her plant life when the wind blew through your still-broken window, the soft pad of her bare feet on your floors. You couldn’t tell her that you wanted her to come back.
You started going to bed earlier again. You had been staying up late so that you could see her after the sun went down. You started sleeping more. After two weeks of no sightings of your strange stalker, you called to announce you would be returning to the lab. And some of your colleagues took you out for drinks.
You got a little too drunk, maybe, at the bar. You stumbled home a little too unaware of the shadows following you. You stripped and got into bed a little too horny and thinking about the naked body you had become so used to seeing night after night. And then your hand felt a little too good while you imagined a little too vividly what that body might have felt like against yours.
In your drunkenness it took you a little while to notice that your hand wasn’t what was moving between your legs any more. Tendrils, thin vines and stems and woody fingers, were holding your hand and replacing your movements with their own. Your back arched off the bed and you moaned wantonly as friction moved in counterpart with itself, pushing while pulling, thrusting while retreating, filling while emptying. It was dizzying, the amount of sensations you could feel at once. You whined and tried to move your free hand. It was stuck fast to the bed, roots tying it down. You looked through bleary eyes and saw the naked body you’d been missing. The perfect breasts were in front of your face and you did was only instinct. You sucked them into your mouth.
You heard the rustle of leaves, a near human moan that sounded as much like a tree creaking in a storm. You tasted wood and dirt and flesh and blood on your tongue as you sucked and licked the perfectly shaped mounds. You felt the intensity of her passion, your mandrake girl, as she brought you up to the heights of you pleasure. Your mouth fell open around her and you felt wooden lips and a wooden tongue dance into your mouth. You screamed a prayer that only the gallows god would hear into her as she began to take root inside of you, underneath your skin.
