stumpys-mansters

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Deer Centaur Sculpture At Stevens Point Sculpture Park, Wisconsin

Sources: Photos 1 & 2, Photo 3

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orc

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WarBoss - by Denys Tsiperko

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Ooohhh this is so good

You were a laundress in a castle owned by a prominent but reclusive duke. There were other laundresses, but you were the duke’s personal one, largely because of the bloodstains on his clothes and bedding. You asked no questions and passed no judgment. He’d never spoken to you directly, but he did send you small gifts and treasures, for your… discretion.

Early one evening, he decides to thank you in person.

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Would giraffe centaurs have long necks too? 😃

Ohhh. You know, I bet they would. 

If I wasn’t so exhausted this week, I’d draw it. XD

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Do you think Khajiit get the zoomies like normal cats do? do you think a khajiit will get up at like 2 am and their spouse is like “babe everything ok?” and their just like “yeah this one just has to run like 4 miles right now.”

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Can centaurs slap their own ass to go faster?

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finally a monster literally none of you nasties will wanna fuck

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Another meme? So soon? I shouldn’t have

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Forest monster x NB reader (part 1/?)

Forest monster and NB reader part one out of... probably 3. This one is a story I'm finally working on an ending for! Definitely not a romance. Kinda on the creepy side and trigger warnings for slight violence and sex. Do not proceed if you are under 18 years of age. Enjoy!

You step out of your old pickup truck and take a deep breath. For the past 5 years you had only been as close as the helicopter pilot would allow; carefully mapping every inch you could see of this beautiful forest. As far as you could tell, it was only about 200 acres, hardly anything compared to the forests your colleagues mapped and navigated. Hell, your grandfather alone ownes about 100 acres somewhere in Texas.

Flora spread at your feet, seemingly untouched. It was definitely a weird assignment, but only because of the rumors; something odd was happening here that you couldn't quite put your fingers on. Hunters and experienced backpackers alike would tell stories of becoming lost in a seemingly small space. They experienced hallucinations of animals almost real, but just a little off. Deer with antlers as high as trees, birds with wingspans larger than a car... A hare with antlers. That jackalope story really gave you a chuckle. Nothing seemed quite right, but then again none of the stories seemed like something the human imagination wouldn't come up with out of fear.

The trees were tall and the vegetation thick. This place was to potentially be a new recreational park, so there weren't any trails or signs of navigation in the area. Straight ahead of you, you could see a patch of trees so thick light couldn't permeate. No wonder people were afraid here.

You checked your backpack, grabbed your notebook and started on your way. Your job today wasn't to map, but simply to observe. You'd be documenting the vegetation and animals in the area; all standard stuff. You decided to walk towards a line of pines that seemed a little odd for the area but not completely out of place. It would also be a good marker for finding your way back to your truck. You were pretty confident in navigating the area, after all you had been mapping it from above for the last few years.

You had started pretty early in the morning, hoping to get as much done in one day as possible. After a few hours you decide to stop for a little break. Nearby there's a large stream and a clearing that looks perfect. You set out your lunch of simple sandwiches and chips and look out into the distance.

"This place is fucking beautiful," you say aloud, in awe.

"It is, yes?" a soft voice comes from behind.

You jump to your feet faster than you knew possible, spilling your tea and almost dropping everything out of your open backpack. Your pen splashes into the river and floats off.

"I... I'm sorry," you start. "I didn't realize anyone else was here. Are you a hiker? Hello?"

You stare out into the direction you heard the voice, looking for someone to come stepping out at any moment. The voice you heard sounded much closer than your brain wanted to allow. You didn't see anyone in sight and there's no way you'd hear someone that clearly without them yelling to you. You turn your attention to the snap of a twig to your left, only to see a squirrel scurrying up a tree. You never noticed until just now, but this place seems so... empty. You listen for the sound of someone's voice, but also listen for something else. Anything. You can't hear any birds around which is odd. You can't recall seeing any animals, aside from the squirrel just a moment ago and the occasional flash of an animal that's seen you and took off long before you could see it. Panic floods you and in an instant you shake it off and remember that at least you're not alone here.

"Hello?" You ask again, this time a little louder. Your question is returned by complete silence aside from the stream below. You decide to try to relax and finish your lunch, this time with your back to the water. At least now if someone tried to sneak up on you they would have to swim across the water and you'd surely hear them.

After finally relaxing from the situation and finishing your lunch you stand up and walk along the stream. You have already mapped it from above and know it runs the entire length of the property and you also know that at the far west end there's a small cabin that looked to be abandoned. When you originally set your eyes on it you mentioned that you wanted that to be one of the first places that you visited; trying to gather any information you can about what kind of person once lived in such an isolated place.

The cabin wasn't very hard to find. Just as you remember, on the west most side of the river about 50 yards off to the right. Up close it looks in about the same condition as you originally thought. You gently run your fingers along the side, feeling how strong the structure feels even though it has to be at least 100 years old. Before entering completely, you knock loudly on the door. After a moment or two you crack open the door and yell inside.

"Hello? Is anyone in here? I'm just passing through and I'm afraid I may be a little lost," you lie. You're very familiar with squatters in the city and you know it's best to not alarm them and make your presence known. After a few moments you step inside. A rush of cool air flows around you and you quickly realize there's a window at the other end of the cabin on the left side that's open. "Odd," you think to yourself and press inside.

It's small and cozy. There's a main living area, what you think was once a kitchen, and a loft on the right side. All someone could ever need to live about as comfortably as the time would allow. Aside from an old bench and table, there's only one other object in the entire place. A small mirror hangs on the wall to the right, directly under the loft. It's framed in a beautiful wood and you can't help but touch it. You carefully take it off the wall and using your sleeve wipe off the face of the mirror.

Proud of your work you gently place it back on the hook and adjust it. Out of the corner of your eye you see something curious, and tilt the mirror to the side. Horror and shock fill your body. Your knees feel weak and the blood all but drains straight out of your face. Through the mirror you can see directly behind you to the window. It's now closed and there's a face pressed directly to the glass. It's dark outside where it was once bright daylight when you entered the house only 2 minutes prior. The face stares, unblinking and unmoved. It's almost human but not quite; two eyes, shadowed nostrils where a nose should be, and a wide mouth with jagged, exposed teeth. You stare through the window, frozen by fear. Suddenly, the eyes blink... not horizontally but vertically. You've never seen anything like it in your life and you can't look away. The face breaks out into an impossibly long grin, its tongue darting out and slowly running along the glass and in an instant your whole world goes dark.

When you come to you find yourself pressed up against a large tree. Your eyes refuse to open and your limbs refuse to move. You're not sure if you're being physically restrained or it's fear keeping hold of you. You finally manage to open your eyes and almost close enough to be touching is the face you saw earlier. You instinctively slam your eyes shut and feel a hot stream of tears run down your face. A huff of air brushes over you, almost like a sigh, but then you feel alone.

/"Open your eyes"/

The voice booms in your mind and you replay it over and over. Its a voice like no other. Not male, not female, youre not even sure it's speaking english but somehow you understand it and hear it clearly enough in your mind as if it were your own voice. Eventually you gather enough bravery. Your eyes dart around quickly in the dark forest. Your vision blurry from tears and the only light available is from the moon above, barely coming through the trees. You can't see much of anything except more trees but you don't feel alone at all anymore.

Something moves in your field of vision and you look down to find a lone rabbit sitting inches from your feet. You stare at it in silence and it stares back. Its eyes blink in the same sideways way as the face you saw through the window . The memory comes flooding back. Your breath catches and you watch in silent horror as the rabbit's face contorts to unexplained angles. Its ears grow and grow and grow endlessly, flopping along the floor and spilling over your lap. On the top of it's head horns spread out, or maybe tree branches, you're really not sure. A thick, black sap-like substance drips out from its head and the corners of it's mouth. The antlers start stretching up into the trees, shaking the limbs and spilling leaves and debris onto you. A long, clawed hand drapes over your knee from behind the tree and slowly presses up your shorts onto your thigh, dragging its claws hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to draw blood. You slam your eyes shut again and can only hear the sound of your own heavy breathing.

With your eyes still closed you can see light, and decide to open them. The hope that someone has come to save you from this nightmare fuels you, but when you come to your senses you find yourself in broad daylight. The forest hums with a slight breeze. You can hear the stream where you ate lunch. When you look at your wrist watch the time says 1:37pm.

"How is that possible?" you whisper to yourself. When you last checked the time before going into the cabin it was already close to 3pm. Could you have somehow gone backwards in time? No that's impossible. Could it be the next day? You honestly could barely remember your own name. You think about your lunch, and about the beautiful old cabin and you think about the face you saw. You remember the ears and the antlers. You remember those claws running up your thigh and the terror you felt. You slowly lift your shorts and find three slightly red, light scratches and it confirms that everything you experienced wasn't just a dream. It takes everything in you to not lose your lunch.

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honestly with the shape of water and now venom and the bumblebee trailer lookin like a romance film

it’s all about the monster fuckers at the cinemas and its about goddamn time

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Drew my oc Protheus fully.

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wet nightmare:  when you realize that the monster that has been chasing you in your sleep is actually kinda hot.

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Monsters that try to give you compliments, but just end up sounding weird:

“Your veins are the most beautiful shade of blue. I like all of them, even the ones I can’t see.”

“You are small and delicate, like a tiny rodent with no fur.”

“I love the globular shape of your skull.”

“The scent of you is powerful and strong in my nostrils.”

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Deathclaws. Big, angry, strong... So so hot... Deathclaws. Need I say more?

You need not. The Wasteland is such a better place with deathclaws. Yes I very much love deathclaws. Look at the little tongue!!!!!