totally not swooning over monsters

Another inspiration by the awesome Monster Mama! 

Alien from one of her written requests!

“You’re very beautiful. I hope you know that.” 

NSFW story about a gargoyle x female reader. I want to do a part two at some point. I have some more story plotted out… Warnings for unwanted sexual advances of a human male as well. 

You pushed the French windows open and gasped as the vista opened up before you. The cathedral, a towering, ornate, gothic edifice, studded with jewel-like windows and dotted with a menagerie of gargoyles and grotesques, was so close to the hotel balcony that you felt like you could touch it. Of course you couldn’t, but still, it was only a matter of metres away.

“Is everything to your satisfaction, madam?” the member of the hotel staff asked from behind you.

You sighed. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

A city break. You’d dreamed of this for years. You and your partner, together. Perhaps even the dream proposal in the cathedral square, a single rose in his hand. You fought back tears at the memory of coming home unexpectedly from work at lunchtime and finding underwear that was not yours abandoned on the couch. Vile, lurid, lacy, purple. You could still hear the sounds of their union in your bedroom. In your bed.

You turned away as you were left in peace, and gripped the stone balustrade of the balcony. Your eyes screwed shut and your lip quavered. You would not cry over that –over him ­­– any longer.

You’d booked this as a surprise for him. He was not going to ruin it now.

You explored the city on your own.

You only lived a couple of hours’ drive away, but somehow you’d never managed to make time for the trip. The city opened up before you, street by winding street, and you lost yourself in the magic of it. With buildings dating back to medieval times, it was an incredible place. You had your camera around your neck, zooming in, picking out little corners as you went: a cracked pot overflowing with tiny white flowers here, a dragon-tailed railing there, an odd architectural quirk above, and an intricately cast drain-cover below.

By the time sunset was approaching, you were exhausted. Before supper, you went out onto the balcony and stared at the carved stone ornamentation on the cathedral as the sun dipped lower, gilding the rich stone tracery, flashing off the leaded, stained-glass windows. The whole thing looked like a jewel-encrusted reliquary made of finest gold.

Bringing your camera to your eye, you focused the lens on one gargoyle in particular. It sat on a balcony facing yours, a small wooden door behind it, as though it had been set there to guard the entrance. It had suffered a great deal since the mason had first carved it, however. A large chunk of its head had been cracked away, chipped off to leave a rugged, raw edge on its right side, though the masonry had been softened by the combined efforts of wind and rain over time. The body was large, like a lion’s, with massive, taloned hands, and a curling, thick tail like a bullwhip that ended in an almost cartoonish triangle. It had one horn that curved away from its ear, backwards over its head, finishing in a stylish little upward flick. A shaggy looking mane tumbled down its spine in waves, and two large wings were folded neatly down its back from its shoulders. There was something about it that made you zoom even further in.

The sun was fading, and the light pretty terrible now, so you adjusted the aperture and the shutter speed, resting the camera on the balustrade so you could reduce the blur from a relatively long exposure. The sun winked down behind the rooves, and as the wash of golden light faded from the creature, you frowned. It looked for all the world as though it had moved.

Here’s the final part of Khuruz x reader, with a bit of nsfw. Thanks so much for joining me on this story - it was the first monster story I posted on here, and Khuruz is a very dear character to me. I may revisit his story again in the future, but for now I’ll be concentrating on other monster lover stories for this blog.

Yrik the centaur is going to get his own x female reader story, and Skandi will get a story with Mikken, a cervitaur (deer centaur) who works on the neighbouring farm… 

Part One  | Part Two  |  Part Three  |  Part Four  |  Centaurs  | Khuruz

Khuruz – because for some reason the massive orc was actually a complete gentleman as well – did not fuck you right there in the field like you’d perhaps had in mind, but he did kiss you senseless and leave you panting and desperate for more.

“No, my little miracle,” he growled, his hand going to press down on your stomach, pinning you down and stopping you in your tracks. It had been affectionate, but still it was a definite growl. “Orcs generally like to save that, you know…?”

“Really?” you gasped incredulously, still pink cheeked and breathless. Of all the things you’d imagined from an orc, waiting til they were married, or whatever he’d meant, was not it.

“Yeah,” he said. “When it really matters, yes.”

You groaned and tipped your head back into the grass. “Fine.” You inhaled deeply, and then laughed. “Gods though, if you wanted it you could have me right here in the top field. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but you absolutely could.”

He let out a rasping laugh and lay down on his back beside you. His long, heavy braid fell into the grass beside you, the sunlight flashing on the silver beads woven into it. “I know. And I do want you. Gods as my witness, I do want you.”

He picked up your hand, dwarfed in his own, and laid it down right over the fabric that covered his hard cock. Of course, you were not going to pass up the opportunity to feel just how big he was, and palmed your way down that rock solid shaft.

“Stop,” he breathed, “Please… ahh… please…”

So this was going to be the last part, but as ever, my story has run away with me, and will require at least one more part, if not more… The aesthetic is as much for this part as for the next, so if you see some things that don’t quite fit, they’re a tease for the next bit. I’ve also done some setting up for some other stories that are going to branch off from this one, including Yrik’s (male centaur x female reader), and Iskandar, who’s going to get a male cervitaur (deer-bodied centaur) at some point… 

SFW with the odd stolen kiss. Don’t think any other warnings apply, except for some tusk-rotting fluff… and a bit of centaur antics. Hope you enjoy! 

Part One  | Part Two  |  Part Three  |  Masterlist  |  Centaurs  | Khuruz

Your heart was lighter than it had been in weeks, and that was saying something since you adored being at the farm more than anything. Your stepfather had had his ass handed to him by you, by your uncle, by Khuruz, and by two angry centaurs.

But him trudging up the driveway hadn’t even been the pinnacle of your day.

Khuruz’ words before he’d walked away, heaving that great carriage behind him towards the wagon barn, made you giddier than a faun in spring. “I’m gonna do this properly… court you… orc style.”

Oh how you’d laughed at his smiling, earnest face. But just what did orc courting amount to? You had no idea, and no one to ask. You certainly weren’t about to ask Skandi. He’d probably tease you and tell you all sorts of false stories, and you were too embarrassed to ask your uncle, even if he did know what was going on.

You tried to take your mind off the fluttering in your stomach, and did some mundane chores around the house, and even some baking, while Khuruz was away on whatever business had taken him to the village. You wondered what that might be, but decided you weren’t going to pry. As the afternoon progressed, you piled some honey cakes into a basket, and decanted some iced tea into a large earthenware jug.

The noise of quiet conversation rose from the barn where the centaurs had gone, drifting across the farmyard on the summer air, and you knocked softly on the door, not wanting to intrude or interrupt.

Iskandar looked up and grinned at you, excusing himself and trotting over.

“Hey,” you smiled. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah,” he said, eyeing the basket of honey cakes. “Th-They’re set-settling down nicely.” He looked at you then and said, “Y-Your stepdad’s a d-dick though…”

“That’s putting it mildly,” you scoffed.

“Wh-Why didn’t you ssssay something?” he asked, touching your shoulders gently. Centaurs liked to touch those they were fond of, and you’d always found Skandi’s hands to be reassuring.

You sighed cavernously and shrugged. “I didn’t want to risk anything. If I just shut up and let him order me around, then I figured he’d keep sending me here for the summer.” You eyed the two dark centaurs at the back of the barn, still talking to Hektor, and added, “He’s never had centaurs pull his carriage before, and he’s never been violent before. I think he must be getting desperate…”

“Y-Your uncle said y-you were go-going back to the ca-ca-capital to get your stuff?” he asked, still managing to trip elegantly on the words as they stuttered off his tongue. “You’re not g-g-going alone?” His head bobbed a little as he got stuck, but you waited it out as always.

You shook your head. “I think I’m gonna take a certain orc with me…”

“Oh?” he grinned, folding his arms across his bare chest. “Are you now…?”

“Mmm,” you nodded playfully. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of any more details. “Now, you think those three will want honey cakes?”

“De-De-Definitely n-nnnn… not…” he said, tossing his long hair back.

“You always stutter worse when you lie,” you said flatly. “Stop trying to hog them all for yourself,” you grinned, pushing his shoulder playfully.

Thanks for your enthusiasm so far! I’m really enjoying this story. You can catch up with previous parts here: 

Part One  | Part Two  |  Masterlist  |  Centaurs  | Khuruz

Slight warning again for a controlling father figure, with a very brief outburst of violence. Just flagging it up in case. There’s also a couple of mentions of mistreatment of centaurs too, but again, it’s brief, and there’s a reason for it. It’s not gratuitous. It’s under the ‘read more’ anyway, just in case. 

This time we see some good old protective orc, and a bit of centaur badassery, and there’s a bit of very light nsfw at the end too… Let me know your thoughts on it, as before - it means all the world to have people engaging with it and driving the story forwards with me.

You rounded the corner of the farmhouse and saw him there, with his fancy black carriage, pulled, you were surprised to see, by none other than two beautiful, black centaurs with pale torsos. Their coats gleamed and their tails streamed out behind them in a glorious fountain of silk. They had been bred to be attractive and elegant: bodies slim with perfect conformation and musculature, light feathering on their perfectly black hocks, and each was lean and strong in the way a dancer’s body was. They were tall, but they were hardly the giant working breeds of the farm, that was for sure. 

Part One here

Here’s Part Two, now that I’m back and around onlin a bit more. This time, the (female) reader gets to know Khuruz a bit more, we see more from Iskandar, whom you guys really seemed to like, and we get a bit of a nasty shock at the end… (Again, a warning for a very controlling father figure).  Part Three in the works, if you’re still keen. 

You spent a week going up to the meadow as the two teams worked their way across it. Each time you went with a wagon full of sweat treats and cold, refreshing tea, Khuruz would come up to the wagon after everyone else, keeping the scarred side of his face turned subtly away from you, and offer you a smile as sweet as the first had been.

Other than that, the orcs left you alone for the most part. Anja, the palomino centaur chatted to you and within the first five minutes of talking to her, it became clear she had a massive crush on Hektor. You steered clear of that one though: centaur workplace-romance was not something you wanted to get involved with.

Sometimes on really hot days, you’d sit and read a book in the wagon bed, leaving them all to squabble over the last sweet-rolls or pastries – even though you always made sure you piled in enough for at least three each. Frankly it was nice to be able to take the weight off your feet for half an hour in the middle of the afternoon. Working on the farm had made you strong, given you muscles in your arms that you secretly maintained as best you could back at your stepfather’s house in the city. Despite the strength farm-work gave you, rising before dawn, chopping firewood, herding sheep and geese with Rex the farmyard dog, collecting eggs, helping Iona grind the corn for the flower, baking, cooking, cleaning, sorting, fixing, mending… it all took its toll on you.

One afternoon at the end of the working week, your book hit your lap and your head nodded in sleep.

“No, leave her be,” you just about heard a deep voice chuckle some time later. Hektor’s rich baritone maybe, you thought as you drifted on the edge of consciousness.

Something was lowered over your face and you started, jumping and sitting bolt upright to find the large, dark-haired centaur standing by the wagon, laughing quietly. “Sorry to scare you,” he said. “I didn’t want your face to get burned.”

You realised his adorable straw hat had been placed over your face while you dozed. “Thanks,” you said, yawning. As you adjusted it on your face you thought you saw the hulking outline of Khuruz making his way back into the field.

To inaugurate the blog, I present part one. Female reader, male orc, male centaur best friend. Let me know if you like it and want more! (Just a little warning for a very controlling father figure). ~ Mod Ghosti

Every year you were sent to your uncle’s farm in the country for the summer.

For most children, this might have been a punishment – farm work could be hard, the hours long, and sometimes even dangerous. Your stepfather had certainly intended it to be unpleasant when you were six, but your uncle had your mother’s kind heart, and soon the thought of those blessed three months was all that got you through the rest of the year.

Your uncle knew your stepfather was hard on you, and the two of you had formed an unspoken pact to pretend that this was a punishment, though really, he loved having you there as much as you loved being there. You never told anyone the truth about just how cruel your stepfather could be.

Your uncle kept a small team of centaurs all the year round to help with ploughing and other heavy labour, but in the summer months, during the hay harvest in particular, he hired extra workers.

Your best friend in all the world has been a centaur named Iskandar since you were a young child. He, a leggy, piebald colt, had been nervous and shy, easily startled, but his older brother was on your uncle’s permanent team, and he used to come by the farm at the end of the day with his mother to see Hektor. The first time you met Iskandar he hid behind his brother’s massive feathery fetlocks, but once you’d introduced yourself, and he’d blushed and stuttered his name at you, and you’d even offered him the apple from your coat pocket, the two of you grew to like each other.

By the time you and Iskandar were sixteen and eighteen respectively, you had become inseparable during the summer months. Your uncle, knowing this, also hired Iskandar over the summer, and on your first morning back at the farm each year, you would race down to the fields to find him already at work in the orchard. Seeing him again was the best thing in all the world.

When you turned eighteen, you were still unmarried, which was unusual for the town where you lived for most of the year. Because of that, you were still living under your step-father’s roof and iron rule for three quarters of the year. He ditched you off the back of the wagon at the gates of the farm belonging to the brother of his dead wife, and as you shouldered your bag, coughing in the dust of his retreating carriage, you heard a whinny of delight and heard the thundering of massive hooves.

Iskandar was huge now, having grown into his carthorse body just like his brother had before him, and his long black hair fell down his back in a stream that, more often than not, was loose and untamed. A wide flash of white shot through the hair at the front, and he had one brown eye and one bright blue. But it was his smile that struck you most about him. Wide and white and open, it beamed at you as he galloped at breakneck speed down the dusty track, whinnying uncontrollably, his tail fanning out behind him like a white banner.

No Trespassing

Looks like you’re not welcome. 

I haven’t properly painted Kai in a 1000 years, so here’s some proper love for my snakey son. <3

In other news, I’m almost at 3k on here, so I may do something special soon!