#exophilia short stories

[makayla-is-writing]

Male Forest Fae x Female Reader

Summary: A forest fae stumbles upon you cleaning his shrine. You are a local who stopped to admire the shrine when exploring the forest, before deciding to clean up the forgotten structure. He reveals himself to you, thankful for your respect. He asks that you visit again, and you promise so, despite knowing you’ll never return. However, you feel obligated to come back, bringing gifts and curiosity. The longer time goes on, the more frequent and elongated your visits become. You soon become trapped in his affections, forgetting the life you once led.

Pt.1 here

Pt.2 here

Pt.3 here

Pt.4 here

Pt.5 here

[rowanrabbit]

There was once a beautiful princess who was engaged to a prince from a faraway land. The match was arranged from their birth, and the princess’s whole young life was spent preparing for the marriage. But when she finally met the prince, only a week before their wedding, she found him intolerably arrogant and cruel.

“I would rather marry the devil,” she said to herself, and that night, a devil appeared at her bedroom window.

He swept into the room on a gust of air and stood there as tall as the ceiling, a great big beast with long sharp claws and teeth, wide leathery wings and a tail that whipped back and forth with feral excitement. He fell to his knees on the floor before her, and took her little hands in his.

“I’ve come to steal you away,” he said.

“To where?” demanded the princess.

He scooped her up in his enormous arms. “To my castle,” he said with his fangs at her ear.

He took her to the open window and launched back into the night, catching the air with his powerful wings and carrying the princess away.

They flew through the night for many miles, until they came to a beautiful palace carved from soft white stone, its spiraling towers gleaming with moonlight against the dark mountains. They went in through a tall tower window and landed in a bedroom decorated with dark wood and soft white silks. The devil laid the princess down on a soft bed, where she fell asleep.

The next morning she woke up alone in the beautiful room, and waited for the devil to come to her, which he did before long.

“How did you know that I wanted you last night?” she asked.

“The devil always comes when he is called,” he replied. “I’ve brought you here to make you my bride, lovely one. Will you accept?”

“I will accept,” said the princess, “but only if you court me according to the customs of my people.”

“Tell me what I must do,” said the devil.

“On the first night,” said the princess, “you must bring me a beautiful jewel.”

“It will be done,” said the devil, but just then, there came the sounds of a commotion outside. They went to the window and saw an army of a hundred men at the castle gates, led by the cruel and arrogant prince.

“He’s come to take you back,” said the devil.

“Don’t let him,” said the princess.

“Yes, my lady,” said the devil. He spread his wide wings and flew down from the tower window to meet the men at the gates. All day long, the princess watched through the window as they did battle. The human men were no match for the devil’s terrible claws and teeth. By sunset he had driven them all away. The princess was glad, but she saw that he’d had no time to collect any jewels for her.

“Where is my jewel?” she asked coyly, when the devil returned to her room.

“Here it is, beautiful one,” said the devil. In his hands was a perfect round orange that he’d plucked from a tree in the garden, with a dark green leaf still attached. He peeled it open in his great claws to reveal the segments of soft flesh, faceted and sparkling like gems. The princess was delighted, and she allowed the devil to feed her the soft sweet slices.

He returned to her the next morning, ready for his second task.

“What next, my lady?” he asked.

“On this second night,” said the princess, “you must serenade me with a beautiful song.”

“It will be done,” said the devil, but just then, there was another great commotion at the castle gates. They went to the window and saw that the prince had returned with an army of a thousand men.

“So many this time…” said the princess.

“I won’t let them take you,” the devil said to her. He leapt out the bedroom window and flew down to face the army of men. All day long, the princess sat at the window and watched the ferocious battle taking place. This time the devil summoned mighty winds full of dust and hale, and jets of fire that shot up out of the earth, and he cut through through shields and armor with fiery swords. By the end of the day, he had driven the army away yet again. The princess was very impressed, but she knew he’d had no time to tune his instruments or practice his songs.

“Where are your instruments?” she asked, when the devil returned to her room.

“Let me take you to them,” he said, and gathered her up in his arms. He leapt out of the window with her—a thing the princess was somehow getting used to—and they flew away from the castle, to a hidden gorge tucked between two mountains, where a little winding brook burbled through a meadow of soft grass spotted with trees.

The devil set the princess down on her feet in the grass.

“I see nothing,” she said.

“You must listen,” said the devil.

She listened, and she noticed that the chuckling babble of the brook was almost like a soft little song, and the crickets hidden in the grass all around were rubbing their legs together like bows on strings, like a tiny little orchestra. And when the wind blew, it whooshed deeply through the walls of the gorge, rustling the leaves of the trees, and every so often an owl hooted too. It was as lovely as music, and they stood together listening for most of the night, until the devil carried her back to the bedroom so she could sleep.

He returned to her the next morning. “What must I do next?” he said.

“This is the final night of our courting,” she said, "and you must prepare a grand feast.”

“It will be done,” said the devil. But they both listened for the telltale sounds of swords and marching feet, and heard them, and going to the window they saw that the prince had arrived at the gates once again, leading an army of ten thousand men.

“Let them take me back,” said the princess, looking over the vast army. "You'll be hurt."

“Don’t be afraid,” said the devil, “for I cannot be felled by mortal men.” He went out through the window and flew to meet the oncoming army. And as he flew he grew, twenty feet tall, fifty feet, one hundred, one thousand feet tall, until he landed on the battlefield with a thunderous crash, towering over the terrified army. Many men turned and fled right then. But the arrogant prince would not be dissuaded, and he led the remaining men against the beast. Their swords and arrows were practically useless, their horses were wild with terror, and their morale drained away like sand through a sieve.

The battle finally ended in the evening. The prince had limped away in secret, defeated for the final time. Many men lay dead, while those still living scattered into the mountains. The devil slowly returned to his original size, lying down in the dirt among the dead, unharmed but exhausted from his great transformation. The princess left the palace and went to him, and took his large clawed hand in hers.

“Forgive me, lovely one,” he said, “for I have prepared no feast for you.”

“No?” asked the princess, looking around. Hundreds of ravens had descended upon the battlefield, already tearing into the fresh corpses, and wolves and lions were emerging from the woods to join them. “I think the feast is already under way,” said the princess, “and the guests are enjoying it very much.”

The devil laughed wickedly at that. “I think you might be a bit of a devil yourself,” he said. They were married on the next evening, and they are still living happily to this day.

[curseoftheundeadraven]

From Within Two Prisons

Part One

Male monster x female protagonist

NSFW

(I would really appreciate some feedback if there is anything I could improve on. Thank you!)

I am unsure how or why I descended the dungeon stairs with so little fear but descend I did. My fingertips slid effortlessly across the cool stone walls as I breathed in the scent of damp earth and moss, but it was interlaced with a more repugnant aroma. Quinn had been entrusted with guard duty and his general disdain for such assignments and penchant for falling asleep at any opportunity granted me the chance to proceed undetected. Silently, I ventured further into the depths, my senses attuned to every sound and shadow.

Peering into each cell, being careful to tread lightly, my expectations were met as all of the cells were empty. Even King Jasper, notorious for his apathy, deemed this place unfit for human habitation. Yet, it was not human life that compelled me to travel to such a place.

Eventually, I rounded a corner and encountered a cell fair larger than the others, standing alone at the end of a desolate hallway. A shiver traveled down my spine, though some part of me still thought the other maids surely were playing a joke on me, thinking me naive. Perhaps I was, or perhaps I was so incredibly lost in the exhaustive nothingness that was my life any chance at something interesting was worth looking into.

Drawing nearer, the realization dawned upon me that I had indeed stumbled upon something truly captivating. A dark blue figure perched upon a worn wooden bench within the cell gradually came into focus. The creature possessed a striking feature, impossible to ignore—a magnificent set of wings, nearly black, adorned with hues of deep blue and interwoven with scattered patches of dark purple. Yet, it surpassed any avian comparison in sheer enormity, likely almost twice my own size. It was not solely composed of blue feathers. Towards its face, a patch of grayish skin emerged, contrasting the vibrant plumage. Its feet bore imposing claws, each talon a force to be reckoned with, while its hands exhibited a semblance of human form, the feathers receding along the back of its palms.

"Bumbling humans, deluded by your self-perceived mightiness," mocked a shrill, almost metallic voice, piercing the air. Startled, I nearly leapt from my skin, a surge of fear coursing through me. I had never anticipated encountering a creature that could speak.

"I... I don't consider myself mighty," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The creature abruptly lifted its head, granting me a glimpse of its face—a surprising mix of human and avian features. Dark feathers extended down its sharp nose, its features angular and pointed, accentuated by piercing white eyes. After a moment of silence, I somehow found the courage to inquire, albeit awkwardly, "You... can talk?"

The creature sneered, mocking my own voice with shocking accuracy though in a twisted, distorted tone. "You can talk?"

An indignant huff escaped my lips as I retorted, "There's no need to be rude," while the creature observed me, tilting its head in curiosity. "Though, I suppose I'd be rather sour if I were trapped down here..."

"Did you merely come to gawk at me?" it snapped, its voice laced with a mix of anger and frustration.

"Oh, no, absolutely not!" I hastily defended myself, feeling remorseful for my unintentional staring. "I apologize if it seemed that way…” I added sheepishly. I didn't mean to gawk...but he was truly remarkable. I had never beheld such beauty before. I could only imagine how his feathers would shine in the light...

"Why have you ventured into this place?" he demanded, his voice rough yet tinged with curiosity.

I confessed, "There's a rumor circulating about you... that the king has captured some... being of sorts." I chose my words carefully, not wanting to say anything unkind. He scoffed dismissively.

"Just what I needed," he sneered, disdain coating his words, "a swarm of bothersome humans sneaking down here to pester me." I approached his cell, raising my hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't consider that. Would you like me to refute the rumors…so no one else disturbs you?" I offered, my gaze locked on his face, attempting to discern his reaction.

"I've had enough encounters with humans to know their words hold no weight," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom, each syllable burning through the air. I paused, contemplating his bitter response.

Then, in a delicate yet sincere tone, I asked him, "Have you ever encountered anyone named Analise?" His gaze lingered on me, his pupils contracting. I straightened my posture, nervously rubbing the inside of my palm with my thumb.

"No, I haven't. What does that have to do with anything?" he replied, curiosity mingling with the remnants of his earlier hostility. I shrugged lightly.

"It means you can't assume I'm like all the other humans," I responded, a faint smile gracing my lips. I continued, "Oh! I apologize, I never asked for your name." I awaited a response in silence, but none came. "...I can give you a nickname if you'd like."

"Nyka..." he finally uttered, the word trailing off as he muttered something about my being a nuisance.

"Nyka. I like that," I said, repeating the name softly. Then, searching for the right words, I asked, "So, what kind of creature are you?"

"What do you think?" he countered, in a tone that made it clear he expected a certain response.

"Well, many of the staff believe you might be a demon, but I know that's not the case," I replied confidently.

"And how do you know that?" he inquired.

"Demons are supposed to be terrifying, purely evil creatures. You, on the other hand, aren't like that. Though you are undoubtedly intimidating, you're not scary," I stated, nodding in affirmation. I witnessed a look of utter disbelief cross his face.

"Right," he said sarcastically, averting his gaze. Slowly, I approached his cell, my hands wrapping around the chilling steel bars, determined to prove the honesty of my statement. He turned to face me, briefly taken aback before shaking his head. Then, he stepped off the wooden bench, rising to his full, towering height. He stood before me, an immense figure nearly seven feet tall, body strong and muscular. Feathers adorned his form, leaving his chest bare, while his lower half was concealed by pants. Not that I cared about such details. He wore a scowl, anticipating my recoil, yet I remained rooted in place, my mouth agape, awestruck by his commanding presence.

"You... you're... wow, I mean... you're just incredible," I managed to babble, my cheeks flushing crimson. He lowered his face, drawing closer to mine, studying me intently. Then, as if struck by a notion, he reached toward my face, his massive hand cupping my jaw, tilting my head upward. He simply stared, his pupils dilating and contracting rapidly, while I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks. His touch evoked something within me, a magnetic pull. I yearned to run my hands along his magnificent wings.

"Not the slightest bit of fear…you are an oddity, aren't you?" he mused, his tone causing my stomach to flutter.

I didn't linger for long, fearful of irritating Nyka, and my nervousness only intensified with each passing minute. It took me a few days to find an opportunity to sneak back in. When I did, I was extra cautious, my apron filled with provisions. If a single item fell at the wrong moment, I would surely be caught. Approaching his cell, I could see Nyka immediately perking up as he caught sight of me. He stood and walked toward the bars.

"Okay, so I probably should have asked what you eat, but I brought whatever I could," I explained to a bewildered Nyka. Awkwardly, I held out my apron, offering him the food I had brought. He eyed me for a moment before reaching out to grab what I had offered, then settled on the ground. I followed suit, a wide grin on my face as I fought the urge to bounce up and down with excitement.

We sat in silence, and I allowed him to enjoy the food while I studied his figure and the mesmerizing beauty of his feathers. Occasionally, I caught myself staring a bit too much and quickly averted my gaze, nerves getting the best of me. After a while, he finished everything I had brought, and we locked eyes in silence.

Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with uncertainty, "Thank you," as if still questioning the reality of the situation.

"I figured they aren't feeding you much, but I'm not sure how often I can do this without risking punishment," I admitted.

"Are you a maid or something?" he inquired.

"...or something. I'm a servant, similar to being a maid…but not by choice," I replied quietly.

"Why?"

"To repay a debt that is not mine," I stated grimly, not wishing to delve into the details. It was a topic I preferred to avoid.

"Can't you escape?" he asked.

"I've witnessed enough failed attempts to know better. It's nearly impossible. Perhaps if I were as big as you I’d have a chance” I chuckled softly.

This routine continued for two weeks. Each day, our conversations grew more extensive, and each day, Nyka's demeanor warmed toward me. He even allowed me to touch his wings, which proved to be incredibly silky to the touch. I had developed a habit of reaching out to him whenever I could, whether it was grabbing his hand or touching his knee. At first, it startled him, but he quickly grew accustomed to my gestures.

"Do you know why they are holding you here? What their plans are?" I asked one day. His body slumped, and he hung his head.

"No, though whatever it is, my chances of survival are dubious," he mumbled grimly. A knot formed in my stomach that was nearly painful as I gripped the bars so tightly my knuckles turned white. I stared at his dejected figure, desperately grasping for any way I could help. I swore to myself then and there that I would find a way.

I hurriedly made my way down to Nyka's cell one fateful night, the darkness filling the corridors. The hour was so late that it was nearly morning.

"Nyka, I have a way to find out," I blurted out, causing his head to snap up in surprise. Though accustomed to my appearances, the urgency in my voice caught him off guard. He rose from where he sat and approached, his eyes filled with confusion.

"Find out...?" he questioned, his gaze fixed on me as I gripped the bars, standing on tiptoes to get closer.

"What they have planned for you," I explained breathlessly. He recoiled slightly, his expression shifting to a mix of disbelief and resignation. After a moment, he sighed and reached out to gently tousle my hair as sadness flickered in his eyes.

"How?" he asked, his voice tinged with dejection. I was reluctant to tell him the truth. I feared his reaction and the burden of guilt it might place upon him.

The truth was, I had a connection with one of the king's sons.

Prince Edgar, the second eldest, in his late twenties, was known for his... affectionate nature. While he wouldn't openly admit it, he had been involved with several female servants in the past that acted as his mistresses. Although this arrangement granted them better treatment, Prince Edgar was a drunk whose fondness faded fast, quickly tiring of the women.

"How?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing as his hand moved to cradle my chin, “…you don’t want to tell me…why?” He inquired in a stern voice. I froze, scrambling to find a more palatable explanation, one that would spare him from worry.

"...I fear you'll disapprove and try to dissuade me," I mumbled softly, unable to meet his gaze.

"Analise..." he growled suddenly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I believe I can extract the information from one of the princes if I... play my cards right," I admitted before he recoiled, shock and disappointment etched on his face.

"You can't possibly—"

"No, no! Well, not if I can avoid it..." I sighed as he approached the cell once more. "He has tried to entice me into becoming one of his servants in the past. My intention is to feign consideration, suggesting we share some drinks together. Once he's suitably intoxicated, it shouldn't be difficult to extract the information I need."

"What if—"

"It will be fine, don't worry. I can handle myself," I asserted as confidently as I could muster, even as a pit formed in my stomach. I saw his mouth open, ready to argue, so in an attempt to divert his attention, I added playfully, "No need to get jealous," hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

"My jealousy is not the primary reason I find this plan utterly disdainful—"

"So you admit to being jealous?" I interjected with a small grin. When our eyes met, I knew I had successfully diverted his focus. He looked at me with a longing that intensified, drawing closer. The silence that had consumed us seemed to last eons as he seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"If I were not confined to this cell, I would ensure you never desired another human lover again," he whispered in a low voice, avoiding eye contact. My entire body flushed with heat, and my breath caught in my throat. He studied me for a bit before he reached out, gently cupping my cheek, "You would like that, wouldn't you?" he murmured seductively, causing me to tremble. Unable to form coherent words, I nodded fervently, eliciting a chuckle from him.

He drew me closer until I stood right beside the bars of his cell. Bending down, he tenderly pressed his lips to mine, his hand entangled in my hair. After a moment, he pulled away, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Wait—" I called out, gripping his wrist. He looked at me with a slight smile, his eyes full of lust.

"And here I was afraid you might recoil from me," he said, inching closer once more. This time, his hands reached out, firmly grasping my hips and pulling me flush against the cell, our faces mere inches apart.

"Never," I whispered softly.

“...Perhaps I could please you more than any human man could even from in this cell,” he teased as a hand drifted down to my rear.

As our lips reunited, the sensation momentarily eclipsing the weight of his impending fate. The world around us dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the electric connection between us. With each passing second, his kisses grew more fervent, his lips grazing mine with a mixture of tenderness and desire.

As we kissed, he nipped at my bottom lip, a gesture that sent a surge of anticipation coursing through me. The feeling of his lips and his hands roaming my body ignited an indescribable ache deep within me. It was endlessly frustrating being separated so, able to kiss and touch but never in a way that would be enough. I was unsure if anything would be enough to quell the desire burning me to the core.

I pinched my thighs together as I felt myself growing more aroused, more desperate. I had wished for so long to feel his touch and it was just as enchanting as I had imagined it to be. Sliding his hands lower still, Nyka began to pull at my skirt and without hesitation I aided him in hiking it up. The moment the chance presented itself his hand slipped into my underwear, a small, gravely moan escaping his lips as we kissed again. He ran a finger over my clit and I whimpered.

“So wet, so quickly,” he chuckled, “you’re going to have to be quiet, can you do that?” He questioned and I frantically nodded, “good girl,” he whispered as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip before leaning back in to meet me in a kiss once more. As he did so he began to draw agonizingly slow circles on my clit as I squeezed the bars that separated us.

His touch ignited trails of electricity along my skin. He was strong and possessive. His free hand roamed my body with an insatiable hunger, seeking to claim every inch of me.

I surrendered myself to the allure of his touch as I felt more alive than I knew was possible. Soft moans escaped from my lips as every inch of my being begged for more.

“It’s not enough,” I whined as he began groping my breasts and teasing my nipples. As I felt two of his fingers press against my entrance a shiver coursed through me. He pushed them in at an agonizingly slow pace, but one I was grateful for as my body had to stretch to accommodate them. I gasped as he curled his fingers inside of me before pulling out and repeating the process. Nyka groaned, rutting against the bars.

“So tight, I’ll break free just to feel your pussy stretching around my cock,” he said as he slowly pushed them all the way in. My face burned, I had never indulged such vulgar language but hearing him say it electrified me, and I wanted more.

“Nyka,” I moaned as I began to be consumed by pleasure. He cursed under his breath as he began to pick up speed.

“Do you like it when I say such things? Like how badly I want to taste you and explore every inch of you…gently and slowly, just to fuck you hard and rough, making you cum until you can’t think straight…”

The struggle to remain silent became more and more challenging as waves of pleasure surged through my body. I fought to suppress the sounds that threatened to escape my lips, but struggled. He tenderly cupped my face, his touch both comforting and commanding.

"Sweet girl," he whispered softly, his voice dripping with desire, "though I yearn to hear the sounds of your pleasure, you must contain them. Cover your mouth, tightly," he instructed, his tone gentle yet firm.

I followed his command, pressing my hand against my face, determined to obey.

In that moment, as I surrendered to his whispered instructions, I felt a kind of intimacy I could have never imagined. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto mine, silently conveying the depths of his longing.

With sudden fervor he picked up his pace, roughly fucking me with his fingers. I could hear the noises of my arousal and reached out, clinging to him in any way possible, attempting to keep myself afloat as I was flooded with such intense pleasure

I watched as Nyka rubbed his groin against the bars of his cell, desperate to get friction, to be freed and find purchase inside of me. It was completely overwhelming, my mind solely able to focus on him, how badly I needed him. He began stroking my clit and I could help but pull my hand away from my mouth.

“D-don’t stop, please d - fuck,” I whimpered as quietly as I could.

“I’d fuck you until sunrise if I could,” he stated before kissing me again. I felt tension gathering inside me as my mind started to become hazy, electricity coursing through me with increasing intensity. I covered my mouth again as I felt myself getting closer to the edge. I started erotically thrusting my hips against the bars as he continued to relentlessly finger my tight pussy. Nyka tangled his hand in my hair and pulled slightly, staring into my eyes with all consuming lust.

“Such a good girl, go on. I want to watch you cum for me,” he ordered in a sweet tone, which was my undoing. It felt as though the building electricity finally crescendoed as my eyes rolled back into my head. I pressed my lips together so tightly it nearly hurt. My mind was spinning, unraveling. Pleasure coursed through my veins as I knew he was right, I would never want a human lover again.

It took me some time to regain my footing in reality as I stood there attempting to catch my breath. But I wasn’t done, once he had licked his fingers clean I grabbed his hips once again. With one hand I slowly moved to stroke his clothed cock, looking up at him with desperate eyes. He stared back at me, nearly in awe, as he slowly moved to pull down his pants. I assisted as much as I could and though part of me was overwhelmed by its sheer size and girth another, much stronger part of me, yearned to give him the limitless

pleasure I had just experienced. I wrapped my hand around his length, which I couldn’t entirely grasp, slowly pumping up and down. I whimpered as I pulled his face towards me, kissing him greedily. It was then Nyka’s turn to try and maintain silence as he bucked into my hand, a deep moan escaping his lips.

“Someone’s eager,” he breathed out. I watched as his eyes widened when I began to dip lower, sitting down on my knees. I stared at him, how massive he was, and perhaps I would have been more hesitant had my entire essence not been consumed by my desire for him – as though it was my sole purpose. I licked the head of his shaft, tasting the precum that had begun to leak out. He groaned, gaze filled with an insatiable hunger, a testimony to his overwhelming lust.

“Perhaps you should cover your mouth,” I teased as I swirled my tongue around his head again.

“Perhaps,” he gasped out as I traced my tongue up the length of his shaft before slowly attempting to take his cock into my mouth. The stretch nearly hurt my jaw, but I was determined. His hand tangled in my hair as he rutted forward, his cock suddenly hitting the back of my throat. I moaned around his length, feeling that familiar electricity throughout my body, as my eyes met his. I silently begged him to go on, to use my mouth for his own pleasure and after some hesitation he pulled out before slowly plunging back in, hitting the back of my throat again. He began to create a rhythm, his eyes never leaving mine. I held onto the bars as saliva began to drip from my mouth.

Nyka's teeth clenched, as he fiercely battled his own desires. It was undeniable that his longing for me mirrored my own, an all-consuming force that bound us together. The touch of his hand in my hair and the feeling of his shaft on my tongue was perfect. In that moment this overwhelming passion became my purpose, my reason for being. Nyka, with his intoxicating presence, became the embodiment of my everything.

He released me momentarily, allowing me to catch my breath.

“Please,” I begged, “I want to make you feel good…I want to taste you,” I confessed.

“Everything about you makes me feel good,” he whispered, wiping some of the tears that had collected around my eyes, “I’m going to take you, some day. I’m going to fuck you as though I am dying and you are the only cure,” he promised in a low growl as he moved my head towards his cock again.

He began thrusting harder and with more speed. I did my best not to gag, not to make any noise too loud. I felt how wet I was growing once again, being used by him a sensation nearly too alluring. That feeling was not aided as he whispered sweet praises to me while he used my mouth. Eventually his thrusts became more erratic and sloppy as he held back his animalistic noises to the best of his abilities. I looked up, meeting his eyes and his grip on my hair tightened. Throwing his head back he nicked a few more times, his cum filling my mouth and gushing down my throat. Even his taste filled me with a great need for him, swallowing as he pulled out. I wiped off a small drop that had spilled onto my lips, sucking my finger clean.

As I stood he extended his hand towards my cheek, his gaze soft.

"I yearn for nothing more than to embrace you, to break free from this cruel confinement," he confessed, his voice laced with longing.

A quiet resolve swelled within me, and I responded, "I shall make it so," I promised. He looked at me with such powerful affection that it made my stomach flip. Our lips converged once more, a kiss that brimmed with tenderness. A fire had been lit within me, and I would stop at nothing to fan the flames.

[succubus-interactivefiction]

A Monsters Final Thoughts

Just a short story that popped into my head earlier that I had to write down for some reason. A world devouring monster reflects on its life as it watches the one it loves sleep.

I stare up at the star which gave life to this world, a world that had been filled with an unknowable number of species, some sentient, some not, all simply trying to live their lives. Lives which I long ago snuffed from the face of the expanse of the universe. Now there is only me, her, and this small glade I left untouched at her request. Deep down in my memory, a memory that spans eons and galaxies I know this will not work much longer and someday soon she will either realize her hatred for me, or my hunger will overwhelm me and I will feast on the last living being on this world besides me, her.

As I stare down at her sleeping form through the eyes of my avatar, her head resting on the mimics thighs, I feel myself smile, my entire mass quivering in delight as I brush a stray hair from her soft face and I dive back through my memories to the day I first saw her, a day so long ago, centuries by her reckoning.

I had been so small back then, barely as large as a fingernail, and I had been very scared as I lay quivering in that cursed specimen jar that had been my prison for so many years. They had poked me, prodded me, experimented with fire, and ice, and electricity, and in the end concluded that I was not sentient, offered nothing of value, and so they stored me away in a dark closet to be forgotten. Until she found me.

I don’t know how long I lay in the dark but then there was a blinding light and she entered the room carrying a strange device. I watched as she cataloged everything that had been thrown away with me over the decades I was trapped, but when she came to me she stopped and I realized I had pressed myself to the glass of my vessel as I observed her. I retreated in fear as she pressed her finger to the glass of my jar in curiosity, realizing I had nowhere to go I froze as my terror washed over me, memories of the torture I had experienced returning. At the time I did not understand what she had been saying, but now I understand.

“Oh, I’m sorry little one, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She had said with a smile as she looked down at her device and frowned. “Well this can’t be right, they have you listed as an unintelligent biomass of unknown origins, with no scientific value. Well that can’t be true since I seem to have startled you.” She looked back up at me and smiled sadly, pressing her hand back to my prison. “Have you been alone in the dark all this time? You poor thing.”

Something about her tone made me settle, and feeling the warmth of her hand bleeding through the glass had me pressing myself back against the glass in search of the comfort it brought. Seeing this she smiled happily and plucked my prison from its place on the shelf carrying me into the light. “You are obviously not what they thought you were. But then that was a long time ago and scientists could barely call themselves such back then. At least not compared to our standards nowadays. Come on little one, let’s see what you are.”

Years passed then and I slowly grew. I was the size of a small canine when she came bursting into my room one morning, a look of panic on her face. “We have to go baby, they are saying that you are a threat and want me to dispose of you.” She scrambled around the room and I had to tap the glass to get her attention long enough to sign. “Why?” She came to her knees in front of me and pressed her hand to the barrier separating us, one of my pseudopods doing the same as I felt the fraction of warmth through the glass.

“It’s because of how you grow, how you absorb biomass and make it part of yourself. They found out I had been hiding the results of our testing from them and when they learned that there was no limit to how large you could grow, provided you have enough food, they called you a threat to the planet. But I know you sweetie. We have been together every day since I found you and I know you would never do what they are saying.”

I know now that back then I had lied to her and agreed that I would never do such a thing. I hate that I had done so, but I had been a child at the time and didn’t fully understand. A year later when I had grown much larger and she learned that all the neighborhood pets had vanished she never questioned me and again we ran. Five years after that, even as the crime rate in our neighborhood dropped and rumors of a formless monster eating criminals spread she pretended to not care, but she still made us run.

Finally twenty years later as I lay curled into the massive barn on our property she came to me, sitting in front of me with a gentle smile and something in her eyes told me everything I needed to know about why she was there. She had always known what I had been doing, she knew that it was instinctual. I had to grow to survive, and to grow I had to feast. By now I had grown large enough I knew that I had come from the stars. It is how we propagate, once we consume a world we begin traveling through the stars and when we find a world which we can devour we hurl our spores towards it, our children flung through the dark of space, and we simply pray that at least one will survive to take root.

She had squealed in fright and attempted to flee when I separated a piece of myself and formed it into a facsimile of her species, but her scientific mind had taken over and we sat speaking for the first time using my own voice. After that our relationship had again changed. Until then she had treated me as a child, helping me to learn and grow, but as the years passed with my avatar being at her side it was different. I was different.

It started slow at first, a small smile here, a gentle brush of her hand along the mimics shoulder there. The day she kissed me my greater mass entered a dormant state as I grew content with what I had, her. We lived our lives together and we came to realize that our coupling had unintended consequences as she seemed to stop aging. Her injuries began to heal at the same rate mine would. At times she could hear my thoughts. Part of myself had mixed with her cells and DNA in an unconscious attempt to keep her with me forever.

Fifty years later, as the world around us was embroiled in a war while the planet itself began to die, we still stayed together, happy, content. Until they found us. The ones who had found me, who had locked me away, who told her to kill me had found us. They came at us with tanks, bombs, and fire, and I was forced to wake my greater self in order to save her, at the time I had no idea I would never be able to stop after that.

Feasting on our attackers after waking from such a long sleep woke the ravenous hunger in me and my instinctual need to grow, to reproduce took over. Still she stayed by my side at each step. Even as I spread across the surface of the world she stayed. She convinced herself that no matter what I did, no matter how many of her kind I devoured, I was not evil, it was simply something I could not control and still she looked at me with those shimmering eyes, eyes filled with love only for me.

Now she lays here, in the last unspoiled place on the planet, a place she had always wanted to visit. I had finally come out of my feeding state just before I absorbed this place and realizing what I had done I stopped. I promised her that this last place would always be here just for her. Her world is dead, and there is only me. The oceans long ago became my blood, the land my flesh, and even now I am preparing. I will rip myself from the orbit of this star and fly out into the cosmos in an attempt to spread my species. She knows this.

But even now I can feel the hunger growing again. I can feel myself slowly intruding into her sanctuary, my tendrils burrowing into roots, and dirt. I try to stop myself but I can only slow my progress.

Someday soon it will happen. She will either finally accept her hatred of me, the hatred I can feel buried deep, deep down in her psyche, or, or I will lose control and devour the last living thing on this world. The woman I love. It has happened before, so many times. I have all the knowledge of those who came before and I know I am not the first to love a being that is nothing more than our food. Each time it ends the same.

Even now, as I watch her sleep, softly snoring, a faint smile on her lips, I feel the hunger. I feel it along with the pain, and the hatred I have for myself as my maw opens, one last time.

[sagemonsters]

For Your Convenience...

Hello! I'm Sage (they/she), a 26yo writer who enjoys creating monster-focused romance (sometimes erotic, sometimes not). This means that my short stories generally feature a human who becomes romantically and sexually involved with one or more "monstrous" beings such as werewolves, kelpies, vampires, robots, aliens, etc.

I made this post for the benefit of mobile users who can't access the pages on my blog. You can find my commission rules, rates, and portfolio in my Carrd.

Interested in going on a blind date with a monster? See this post.

This post will be updated with a masterlist of my writing as it is released on Kindle, Smashwords, and here on tumblr, so stay tuned. NSFW stories will be marked as such.

Writing Masterlist

A Tiger of Persia

WIP - original & personal serial piece, cis male weretiger x cis male human, historical romance (Achaemenid-era Persia). Read it here on tumblr:

Part 1 (SFW)

Part 2 (SFW)

Part 3 (SFW)

a note about cultural respect and the coming re-write of this fic

⬤

Bargain with the Leshy

COMPLETE - nsfw original piece, cis male leshy x cis male human, contemporary erotica.

Read it here on tumblr

download story PDF from itch.io

⬤

Midnight Kiss

COMPLETE - SFW commission, cis female vampire x cis male fallen angel, friends to lovers. Warning for "on-screen" death of a child.

read on tumblr (originally published on my old blog)

⬤

The Drider & the Shepherd's Daughter

COMPLETE - SFW original & personal short story, cis female drider x cis female human, fairytale style.

download story PDF from itch.io

read on tumblr

read in the M❤️NSTER magazine

⬤

Though Hell Should Bar the Way

COMPLETE - SFW fanfiction of Alfred Noyes' poem "The Highwayman", cis female human x cis male dullahan

read it here on tumblr

read in the M❤️NSTER magazine

[bmarrowwrites]

The Date

Charlie glanced down at his phone with a soft smile. The photo that his date chose on her profile was stunning. It was also possibly edited, but Charlie didn’t mind. So long as she looked similar to the photo.

Otherwise this date was going to be a bust.

“Um, Charlie?” a quiet voice spoke in front of the man.

Charlie’s smile widened as he looked up from his phone.

“Ah, are you...” his words caught in his throat.

Before him stood a seven foot tall demon. Her eyes an icy blue, sitting in gentle pools of black. Sharp horns curved out from her forehead. She was dressed in a simple black dress, though it almost looked like it would break against the sheer strength the muscles in her arms and legs gave off.

Charlie glanced back at the photo on his phone. Pale skin, brown eyes, and short blonde hair. He looked back at the demon.

‘Well,’ Charlie thought to himself, ‘at least her hair is the same color and length’.

The demon fiddled with her small blue purse. “Um, if you’re not Charlie, then I think I can just leave.”

“No!” Charlie yelled.

He hadn’t meant to be so loud. Charlie took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

“I mean...You don’t need to leave, I am Charlie.”

The demon let out a sigh and carefully slid into her chair across from him.

“Good, I was getting worried.”

“Amber, right?” Charlie questioned.

Amber nodded and flashed a soft sharp toothed smile.

“I’m sorry about the photo. My sister thought that form would look more...well, normal.”

Charlie shook his head. “Don’t worry about you, you look lovelier in person.” he charmed.

Amber’s cheeks burned a gentle blue. She giggled and twirled at her hair.

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No, seriously, you look wonderful!” Charlie continued.

Amber’s heart raced at those words. Her expression grew soft.

“Do you mean that?” she asked, her voice quiet once more. Mostly in awe rather than shyness.

Charlie swiftly reached across the table and rested his hand onto Ambers.

“Of course.”

 Amber looked away, a goofy little smile on her face. “Goodness, you’re making me burn up here.”

Charlie moved his hand back a tad. “I’m sorry if I’m being a bit forward.”

Amber frowned and shook her head. “Oh no, of course not! I...Well, this is our first time meeting each other so...I guess it’s to be expected?”

Charlie rested back into his chair and let out a nervous laugh. “Totally...You do look very lovely tonight, Amber. I think I prefer you like this than your profile picture any day.”

Amber's sweet smile returned. “That’s very sweet of you.”

Charlie felt his heart swell up in joy. He took a quick glance at the menu in front of him.

“Should we order soon?”

“Oh yes! I’m getting pretty hungry.” Amber giggled.

The pair reached for their menus, and yet they couldn’t keep the other from their thoughts.

This date would certainly be interesting.

[makayla-is-writing]

Male Forest Fae x Female Reader (Pt.1)

Find all parts here

You hadn’t planned on stopping so soon, though knowing it was only a matter of time before something caught your interest, you weren’t surprised. It had been your goal to travel outside of your hometown, wandering the nearby forest for interesting trinkets and wondrous discoveries as you bided your time before leaving what you called home. Standing before you, was a large, unkempt shrine. Cobwebs and weeds decorated the limestone, beautifully chiseled in order to create a cohesive structure. The length of such an old shrine must have been twice your height, but now stood at waist level as the limestone eroded over time. Instead of passing by the shrine, you took the time to remove any stray leaves and brush off any spider webs that stuck to the sides. Uncovering a beautiful shade of white, you decide to take a break and admire your hard work. As you take a step backwards, you feel someone sigh against your neck. Yelping, you turn to look at someone so beautiful, you felt he was a figment of your imagination. However, knowing that the short breath against your skin felt too warm to be unreal, you observe the bystander with suspicion. 

“It is rather beautiful under all those twigs, isn’t it?” He turns toward you with a look of admiration in his eyes. He gives a short laugh, before disappearing into the forest. As you turn every which way in hopes of uncovering the intruder, you feel an arm wrap around your waist, and a smile pressed into your shoulder.

“Thank you for paying respect to my shrine.”

[rowanrabbit]

The labyrinth is thick with mist, and fallen leaves have collected on the path in little drifts that crunch beneath your feet. The tall green hedges that make up the maze seem endless, and the thick thorns concealed between the leaves make them impenetrable. You’ve lost all track of time here; you can’t say if you’ve been wandering for hours or days or weeks. There’s nothing to eat, but you never feel hungry. You think you might be dead.

Sometimes you come across features that interrupt the endless monotony of the maze: wide squares centered around crumbling moss-covered statues, or chipped old fountains gently burbling with clear cool water. Sometimes there are stone benches covered in twigs and dust. You always sit for a while and stare into space, thinking about nothing. There’s a lonely sort of peace to this place. It’s not what you expected from the afterlife.

You never see another living thing, not even birds or insects. But sometimes, in the middle distance, you hear the sound of heavy hooves clop-clopping along the path, in another branch of the maze, hidden from view by the tall green hedges. You hold your breath as they pass, caught between longing and terror. You don’t want to see whatever beast is stalking this forgotten place.

But eventually, you turn yet another corner and find yourself facing the yawning doorway of a ramshackle hut, built in the center of a small square. You’re shocked to your core by this sudden sign of life. You’re sure that the beast must be close by. You can hear the clop-clop of the hooves, slowly approaching through the maze, and then you hear the heavy snort of a thick wet snout right behind you.

You turn to find a large figure stepping off the misty path and entering the square. He’s wearing a long dark robe over a bulky body, and a large, unwieldy pack is strapped to his back. His head is covered by a deep hood, but it pokes up into little tents over the shapes of his horns, and in the darkness under the hood his soft cow’s nose is just visible. He’s carrying a lantern in one hoof-knuckled hand, and beneath the long robe are the heavy hooves you’ve heard clopping along the path so many times.

“Are you lost?” he asks. “I can lead you to the exit.”

There begins another stretch of endless time. You follow the minotaur down an endless series of long green empty paths, with the grey mists swirling around you and the dead leaves crunching beneath your feet. He navigates the mist-riddled maze with ease, and you wonder how long he’s lived in this lonely place.

You turn one final corner, expecting another row of hedges, but the hedges end abruptly, and beyond them is spread a wild, rolling meadow. Clusters of white sheep are grazing in the green grass, and in the distance you see smoke rising from the chimneys of houses.

“This way will return you to the land of the living,” says the minotaur, solemnly.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready,” you say, almost laughing, and then suddenly there are tears in yours eyes, and you weep as you stare out into the living world.

“You don’t have to go,” says the minotaur, gentle and shy from beneath his hood. “You can stay here with me until you’re ready.”

You nod your head and dry your tears with your hands, and when the minotaur turns to go, you follow after him, back into the peaceful grey-green simplicity of the maze.

[entropywritez]

Image description: a digital sketch of an unclothed human curled in the fetal position surrounded by coral-like forms. The forms are comprised mainly of loops with lumpy, blunt points protruding from them. They have a rough texture. One of the points from each loop ends in a sharp end. The human is slim and masculine, with a buzzcut, stretch marks, and top surgery scars. They have their eyes closed with a frustrated expression. End description.

I've been in a creative rut recently. An Unwanted Inheritance has been resisting my writing, and my hands have been struggling to draw. Right now as a fun project I'm working on a speculative biology short story to tide myself over.

I Made a Playlist for You follows a transmasculine student writing a paper on and falling in love with a plural interstellar creature known as The Cluster, Solar Colony, for a school project. The student despises free time, because it leaves him alone with his thoughts. The Cluster, Solar Colony is apathetic toward reproduction and spends their time listening in on human radio signals and singing to themselves.

Speculative biology is something super self indulgent for me, so this will be more of a comfort project than anything serious. Expect weird exophilias, autism, queerness, music pretension, and anxiety. So much anxiety.

[monstersflashlight]

hey, love ur blog! 🙈 i want to get to writing similar stuff myself but the tagging and stuff overwhelms me and I'm too lazy to Google it all (like i just found out what afab means?) anyways... was wondering if u could help if it's not much to ask? or redirect me somewhere? (like why do we add a! after fem or male? 😭)

Hi! Thanks, I'm glad you like my corner of the internet. <3

Truth be told, I don't know why we use the ! either. For tagging, I just go with the flow and look up to other authors and see what they tag, and try to use similar tags to them, the ones that fit my story. I never know if my tagging is okay, I just try to cover what feels important in the story.

For example, for the shorts I write here I do the combo of monster and reader in all the forms i find (like: monster x human, monster x reader) and then I add the "terato" tag, which is a short term for teratophilia (love for monsters). Other ppl prefer to use "exophilia". Apart for those general tags, I just use the kind of monster I wrote about and maybe add something for personal navegation within my blog, which I use "txt" for short texts or "requests" for requests... And not much else, tbh. Lucky for both of us, once you get the tags right a couple times they are in your most used tags so you just have to click them once you are ready to post something, which makes things a lot easier.

You really just need to tag the things that would make ppl find your stories. You don't even need to tag as much as I do, you can do a couple tags and add on later in time (or don't). But if you think it'll be easier with just a couple, use just those two or three and that's it. Nobody will be mad at you for using less tags or getting something wrong. Worst case scenario someone calls you out on a tag that's not correct, but you can always edit it.

That said, because of Tumblr's ban on explicit content, I'd say don't add the explicit kinks you use, so you don't get shadow banned and all that. There's ways of adding the kinks and all that, but for me, I prefer to add the kinks at the top of the story so ppl can opt out of reading if they don't like them, but that's my preference.

As per things you don't know what they mean, I'm the girl who googles it all, but if you are overwhalmed by it or don't want to, just ignore it. Don't use things you don't know the meaning of and you'll be fine. You can always ask somebody, I did that the other day with "yandere" bc I didn't know, and ppl were kind enough to let me know.

I hope this was useful, I'm not really that great with tags either. Hope you find your way and end up writing all that's in your head. :)

[thetravelerwrites]

Birch (Part 2)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Female Human/Male Centaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Centaur, Social Communication Disorder, Autism, Semi-Verbal Autism, Reader Insert Content Warnings: Verbal Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Size Difference, Overbearing Mother, Anxiety Disorder Words: 4491

Hazel attempts to get used to life on the farm and winds up spending time with Birch, only for one of Birch's casual lovers to arrive at the farm unannounced. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

The farmhouse was massive, three stories at least, and the barn beyond it was even bigger. There were already people out in the fields, watering and weeding the rows, though they stopped and came closer when you arrived. You’d seen many of them, including the humans and Yew, the other centaur and Birch’s brother. However, the cervitaur, the large reddish bat with a blunt snout, the huge black bat with a fox-like face, and the boy with a dog body from the waist down were a shock. There was also a golden harpy perched on the roof, staring down at you quizzically with a young kitsune on her back.

“Here we are,” Ryel said, jumping down and turning to help you slide off Birch’s back. “Everyone, this is Hazel. I’m not going to introduce all of you at once because I don’t want to overwhelm the poor dear, so make sure you introduce yourselves in your own time. Give her some space, though; this is all very new and strange for her. She has trouble with her words, so don’t badger her with questions, either.”

There were murmurs of welcome, and you nodded acknowledgement.

“Is this the young lady you wouldn’t stop talking about, brother?” Another centaur asked, a lop-sided grin on his face. This was Yew, Birch’s brother, who had dark skin and black and white fur.

Birch cuffed his brother on the back of the head. “Don’t say unnecessary things!” 

“Mama! Birch hit me!” Yew complained in a mocking voice.

“Stop it, you two,” Ryel said, pulling both of their wrists. “Having a new lodger is no reason to act like fools.”

“Don’t stand around gawking,” Birch said, waving his siblings off. “You’ve all got work to do, don’t you?”

A few of them snorted at their younger brother ordering them around, but they dispersed. The giant black bat came forward propelled by his long, winged arms, using them in a similar way as crutches, and stopped in front of you.

“I’m Declan, Ryel’s husband,” He said, his voice as deep as a cavern. “Welcome to our home. I understand you have some communication problems, but don’t be afraid to come to me or Ryel if you need anything. We’re happy to have you here.”

You nodded, staring at his fuzzy belly. He looked really soft, but the thought of asking to touch his fur made your ears turn red.

“Now,” Ryel said, putting her arm around your shoulder. “How about a tour?” 

You nodded.

 “Go find something to do, Birch,” She said, waving a dismissive hand at her son, who had been hovering. “She’s in good hands.”

“I know, I know,” He said with a laugh. He patted your head before turning to follow the others. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Come on, lass, let’s get you settled in and look around,” Ryel said. “There’s a couple of things I’d like to show you.” 

 Ryel led you into the house, and you were startled to see that the first floor was completely open with no walls, except for a semi-closed off washing area close to the back doors and a curtained-off bedroom on the opposite side you assumed was for Declan, since he seemed too large to climb the stairs. The majority of the first floor appeared to be mostly made up of a kitchen, pantry and larder, and dining area complete with two large tables, a tall one for the four-legged folks and a short one, low to the ground, for the two legged folks. Neither table had chairs; it seemed that the family were meant to either stand while eating or sit on the ground around the low table. The only chair you saw was a raised one for small children to sit in.

She showed you to the third floor, where most of the two-legged sleeping quarters were, and into the ladies’ guest quarters, which had four cots and a chest at the foot of each bed for personal items, much like a barracks. Since there were no other guests at the time, you could choose your own bed, and you chose the one right next to the wall and farthest from the window.

 Once you’d put your belongings away, she showed you to the second floor where the working rooms were. There was a room for sewing, a room for woodworking, and a room for candle-making and other types of wax-work. 

“This is the sewing room,” Ryel said, leading you inside. “We don’t do too much fiber work here on the farm beyond spinning and knitting, but we do make most of our own clothes. For those of us who wear clothes, that is. Just so you won’t be surprised: the four-legged and fur covered kids often don’t wear clothes and Lymera, our faun, likes to be nude more often than not. She’s not here at the moment, though; she’s gone to the Temple for training.” 

In the middle of the sewing room was a big loom, almost like a centerpiece. It was beautiful and well-built out of a dark wook and you were drawn to it immediately. Ryel saw you eyeing it. 

“We were gifted this a few months ago, but honestly, we’re not sure what to do with it. Many of my girls, and quite a few of my boys, can spin and knit and sew, but none of us have the faintest idea how to use this. You wouldn’t happen to know how to use it, would you?”

 You nodded enthusiastically. This was one thing you knew very well, since your father ran a textiles shop. Looms of every kind were squarely in your wheelhouse.

“Wonderful!” Ryel said, patting your shoulder. “This is all yours, then, lass. We’ve got more than enough thread, yarn, and dyes, so you can get started whenever you like.”

You smiled and pet the frame of the loom, eager to begin.

After that, she took you back outside to see a cave nearby the house, the entrance of which was hidden behind a fallen, hollow tree. Ryel told you it had originally been her’s and Declan’s home for years before they began taking in children and needed bigger accommodations. The cave now served as storage for their preserved and jarred foods that needed to be kept in a cool, dark place to prevent premature spoiling. 

Then she led you to the barn, which was housing for the larger and four-legged family members. The middle of the barn was mostly empty space with a large table in the center between the support beams with several long benches on either side. This place seemed to be the social area for the entire family, since open books and small, half-finished handy works were laid out on the table. 

There were six stalls on each side of the barn, each with a large stall door that had been modified to allow privacy; the interior of the stalls were more like bedrooms than stables, with leaning beds or nests, bookshelves, and side tables. At the moment, Birch, Yew, Toklo, Reed, his wife, and their children lived there, with the kids having one of the stalls to themselves. All of the others were open and empty. 

Above the stalls were lofts that served as additional accommodations for when the main house was at capacity; apparently the farm hosted travelers regardless of weather or season, and often took in people who were in dire straits, refugees and other folks desperate to escape terrible situations, and the family never turned away a person in need. 

Behind the barn was a much smaller open-air stable, where the livestock of guests were kept, and behind that was a smithing shed and a tanning shed. A short walk away brought you to a river where they pulled their water. There was a strange device on the side of the river Ryel had told you one of her children, Cetzu, had invented for irrigating the crops. 

 Once the tour was done, it was time to begin cooking the evening meal. You knew a bit about cooking, so you were invited to come in and assist with preparing dinner, and considering how large and open the first floor was, there was little chance of being underfoot. Thankfully, the others took Ryel’s words to heart and didn’t ask you too many questions except when necessary, and they were all unfailingly polite.

It was a hot day, so the family decided to eat dinner in the barn, to escape the heat of the kitchen in the house. The barn had large double doors on either side of the building as well as large frameless windows in the upper portion near the lofts, so the summer breeze wound freely into and out of the building. After laying out the food and putting some cushions down so that the four-leggeds could kneel down, they all sat and began to dish out the plates. 

There were quite a large number of people around you that you didn’t know and had no interaction with, which made you feel a little uncomfortable and self-conscious. It helped that you were in an open space with clear exits, but you weren’t used to this much exposure to other people. It also helped that the food was meant to be eaten by hand, so there were no grating sounds of utensils against plates, which is one thing that made you incredibly anxious. 

Reed’s wife, Yala, began to address you in a friendly tone. She was a chubby young woman with reddish-brown hair and pretty doe-brown eyes, sitting directly across from you at the table. 

“Since you have trouble talking, are you okay with just some yes or no questions?”

You nodded.

“Oh, good,” She said, wiping bits of food off of her youngest child’s face. “Are you liking it here so far?”

You nodded again, passing a plate of corn-on-the-cob to Toklo, who was sitting next to you. Instead of taking it, he raised his hands straight up into the air and leaned backward as if the plate was on fire. You recoiled in surprise.

Yew, who was on his other side, reached around him and took the plate instead. “Don’t worry about him. He’s almost completely a meat eater usually, but he also has trouble with touching certain things. Corn is one of the things that makes him uncomfortable.” 

You made a soundless “oh” with your mouth, trying and failing to apologize. 

“It’s fine,” He said, bringing his arms back down and accepting a plate of boar’s meat from you. “I’m just weird.” 

“It’s not weird,” Ryel said. 

“No, it is,” Toklo said. “Normal people aren’t scared to touch things.” He didn’t sound sad or self-deprecating. He just seemed like he was stating a fact. “Corn feels like teeth, and I don’t like touching teeth. I keep thinking they’ll bite me. I know that’s a silly thought, but I can’t help it.” 

That made perfect sense to you, but you understood that others might find it odd. You had a similar issue with wool and anything that had a weird fuzz that didn’t seem like it should be there, like the fuzz on peaches.

You remembered Birch had mentioned that Toklo was the one who had no filter and was unable to prevent himself from saying whatever crossed his mind. You wondered what that must be like. Is that part of why he never went to town? Besides the fact that you’d never met a person like him, having the lower half of a dog, his problem with his speech might also make meeting people and making friends difficult. He was the first person you’d ever met with which you felt something like a kinship. 

“Mama told me you know how to use the loom, is that right?” Yala asked. You nodded. “Oh, that’s great. Honestly, it’s been gathering dust in the sewing room for months. We were contemplating giving it to someone else, but we didn’t know who could use it, and since it was a gift to us, it would be in bad taste to give it away.”

“Not to mention what we could save on clothes,” Declan said, gesturing to his unclothed, fur-covered body, and the table laughed. 

You’d come to like Declan in particular in the short time you’d been there. He had an innate, effortless way of making people feel at ease around him. Maybe it was magic, or perhaps it had to do with his monstrous size that forced him to develop such a skill so as not to scare away every person who came near the farm. It also definitely helped a lot that he had the sweet, inquisitive face of a fox.

The next day, you met Birch by chance when hauling up some washing water from the river. 

“Here, let me take that for you,” He said, reaching for it. You handed it to him. “I’m glad I ran into you, actually. I know Mama is planning to teach you to read and write, but I know some simple hand signs that a friend of the family taught me. I could teach you, if you’d like. It might help you communicate better, even if it’s only with the family.” 

You looked up at him, pleasantly surprised, and you nodded your head fervently. 

“Great!” He said, smiling at you, the lopsided dimple in his left cheek very prominent. “Let’s meet up again after lunch, alright?” 

You nodded again and managed to give him a smile, and he ruffled your hair with a grin. 

“I like that smile,” He said. “I hope I get to see it more often.” 

You blushed and looked away, covering your face.

He chuckled as the two of you reached the porch. He set the water bucket down on the wood and gave you something like a salute.

“See you in a while,” He said and trotted off, his tail flicking playfully. You watched him go for a moment, and continued with your chores. 

Later, you met him in the small orchard near the stables. The orchard was in a circle formation with a clearing in the center for, as Birch said, lounging. He lay his horse body down on the grass and placed a blanket for you to sit on. 

“Okay, let’s start with something simple,” He said. “Hello.” He folded the thumb of his right hand against his palm and pressed the other fingers flat, touching it to the center of his chest and drawing outward without turning his hand. You copied him. “Good. Let’s try food.” He pressed his fingertips together and tapped them twice against his chin. “If you combine food,” He repeated the gesture. “And throat,” He drew the tips of his thumb and pointer finger down his neck. “It means ‘hungry.’”

You repeated the gestures, both for “food” and for “hungry,” and Birch praised you. 

“Let’s try ‘help.’” He curled the fingers of both hands, crossed them over his chest, and waved them as if scratching, and you copied him. 

The lesson spanned about an hour, and at the end, he quizzed you on the signs you’d learned. You were able to remember most of them and were pleased with the outcome. You couldn't sign full sentences, you discovered, the signs were more a means of conveying simple emotions and immediate needs rather than for carrying on a conversation. Despite that, you felt as if you had more access to others than you had before.

“You’re doing really well,” Birch said, ruffling your hair again. “Let’s do this twice a week, okay? And practice with the family, too. Practicing makes it easier to remember, and everyone in the house can understand the signs, even if they don’t possess the digital dexterity to perform them, like Declan.” 

You nodded and signed thank you.

He grinned. “Ah, it’s nothing. If you run into a sign you need but don’t know, come and find me and I’ll help, alright?” 

You nodded again and smiled. 

He smiled softly at you. “I’m glad you came to stay here,” He said. “I was worried about you.” 

You looked at him in surprise, unsure of how to respond. Was he just flirting with you, or was he being genuine? Both? What did he have to gain by telling you this?

You pointed at yourself and made the sign for “happy.”

His smile widened, his eyes gentle. “I’m glad. I was a little worried we’d forced you to do something you didn’t want.”

You shook your head. 

“That’s good, then.” He held out his hand to help you to your feet and plucked up the blanket, standing.  “Harvest will be coming up in a month or two,” He said as the two of you walked back to the farmhouse. “It’s the time of year when the farm gets really busy, but I’ll try to keep our lesson schedule as well as I can.”

You signed “yes” to show you understood.

The weeks went by, and you were having a wonderful time. You spent a lot of time in the sewing room, weaving, and the fabric you made was sold for you in the surrounding towns, which allowed you to earn your own money for the first time in your life. 

After a month of writing lessons with Ryel and Declan, who you learned was a voracious reader, you’d learned enough that you were able to write your name and some simple words, and wrote your first letter to your mother and sent it with Birch on one of his frequent trips to town. It wasn’t more than, “I’m alright. I love you.” But it would be enough to satisfy your mother and prove to her that you were doing well. You hoped.

Most of the human women often gathered in the sewing room to work when there was no work for them in the fields, so you almost always had company. To your surprise, Kurra, the gnoll, was also quite a deft hand at knitting, though he wore no clothes himself, and he seemed to enjoy spending time with his sisters more than spending time with his brothers. The only human that didn’t work in the sewing room was Ryel, who said she had no patience for such things, preferring tasks that required a hammer and axe rather than a needle and thread.

They were friendly and helpful and they didn’t pressure you to communicate, but they were careful to include you so that you didn’t feel isolated or left out. If there was only one person in the room with you, they were happy to work in silence in close proximity, and you felt more comfortable in their presence. 

As you became more at ease on the farm, you found you were able to say a bit more verbally than you had before. It wasn’t more than a word or two at a time here and there, but it was more than you’d managed to do since arriving at the farm. 

In addition to the weaving and typical house chores, you also had reading lessons with Ryel twice a week, and signing lessons with Birch twice a week. The signs that Birch was teaching you helped a lot in interacting with everyone, and you felt a great deal of relief. Before, the only person you interacted with was your mother, and she wasn’t the most talkative or understanding, so you felt closed off from other people, as though locked away in a closet. The ability to write and sign had opened the door a little, giving you a greater sense of freedom.

Strangely, it seemed like Birch had run out of signs to teach you, but the lessons still continued. You weren’t complaining, since you enjoyed the time you spent with Birch, but it did strike you as odd. He said one or two things that might be considered flirty, but he came across as sincere most of the time. He never made a move on you, though, and you figured you just weren’t his type. He’d never really been picky in the past, but you could understand him not wanting you. Besides, even if he did, you didn’t want to just be a fling, either, as much as you adored him.

You were still attracted to Birch. Being close with him like this hadn’t done anything to quell those feelings; on the contrary, your affection for him grew and grew the more you got to know him. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore and insist that it was just an infatuation. You were in love with him. Hopelessly, helplessly in love. And you knew you were going to be hurt by it, but you couldn’t help it.

At the beginning of the next month, right as harvest was due to start, guests arrived at the farmhouse for the first time since you’d been there. Guests were a normal occurrence, you were told, but it had been a slow season, since the heat of summer was nothing short of oppressive and not many people left home in this heat if they didn’t absolutely have to. 

A caravan of covered wagons came up the trail, and everyone set down their work to welcome them. Apparently, they were well known to the farm folk, since a lot of the family smiled and waved in welcome, going to give many of the newcomers hugs and kisses on the cheeks. Despite welcoming guests at all hours, the family was actually quite reserved and guarded around outsiders until they got a better sense of their intentions and personalities.

“Birch!” A woman called from the driver’s box of the leading wagon.

“Layla!” He called, cantering over. She launched herself from the wagon at Birch, who caught her, and they kissed full on the mouth.

You felt gutted, watching them. You knew you had no right to feel jealous, since Birch had shown you no romantic interest, and you hadn’t expressed yours, either, but it still cut you to your core. 

“Welcome!” Declan called. “You folks are just in time! We’re due to start the harvest in a few days. How long do you plan to stay?”

“We were thinking a week,” Layla said as Birch put her back on her feet. “Sorry, big guy, we’ve got some cargo to run from Dunmountain to the coast, so we won’t be here for the whole thing, but we can help out for the first few days.” 

Declan chuckled. “Any help is better than no help. We appreciate the extra hands, as always.” 

“Are the lofts empty?” Layla asked. 

“Sure are,” Ryel replied. “So are the guest rooms.” 

“Ah, you know me,” Layla said with a grin. “I like the open air.” She looked at Birch and winked. His grin widened.

“If you say so,” Declan said. “Come along and let’s get you settled in. Most of the daytime chores are done, so there’s not much to do until dinner.”

Everyone went their separate ways to do this and that, and Birch passed you on his way to the barn. He stopped and studied your face for a moment.

“Alright?” He asked. 

You swallowed down your discomfort and nodded. “Strangers,” You signed. “Nervous.” 

“Ah, I see.” He ruffled your hair. “Don’t be nervous. They’ve been coming ‘round the farm for years now. They’re good folks.”

You nodded again, and he tweaked your nose before trotting off.

Layla, Toklo informed you later, was one of the many infrequent lovers of Birch’s. She came to the farm around three or four times a year, and they’re trysts lasted only the amount of time she stayed at the farm. Toklo told you not to worry, since Birch always took his ladies away from the farm to have his fun, so you wouldn’t have to hear it. That didn’t make you feel better.

You decided not to bother them while Layla was at the farm, and instead stayed up in the sewing room to weave. The tedious repetition of the loom helped you take your mind off things. 

The second day of Layla and her caravan’s stay, the family went down to the river to haul up water for washing and the caravan slept in. The jars for this year’s canning needed to be cleaned and prepared for when the fruit and vegetables were picked and pickled.

You’d finished a full section by midmorning and took the fabric downstairs to be washed and dyed when you saw them together from the porch. You didn’t want to watch them, as not only did it hurt, but it was an invasion of his privacy, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

“You’ve gotten taller, I swear,” Layla said. “Look at all the muscle you’ve built since I last saw you.” She slid her hands up his arms and over his bare chest, her long nails dragging across the skin. Most of the non-humans didn’t wear clothes while on the farm, and Birch was one of them.

“Oh, yeah?” He said, bending down and pressing his fingers into her buttocks, pulling her body sharply against his, picking her up so that she could wrap her legs around his torso. She squealed. “How about I show you how well these muscles work tonight? Since we didn’t get to play last night.” 

She giggled, pressing her breasts against him. “The clearing?”

“That’s our place, isn’t it?” He said in a low, sultry tone, kissing her collarbone. That kiss was a stab to the heart. 

She bit her lip and jumped down off of him, pulling him down for a deep kiss, their tongues mingling. “I can’t wait, big boy. It’s been way too long.” And she trotted off. 

He watched her go, smiling, and turned to see you standing there. At first, his smile widened and he started to approach, but after he’d had a moment to absorb the look on your face, your trapped and anxious demeanor, the tear sliding down your cheek, the smile slipped from his mouth and the color drained out of his face. He looked horrified. You could only imagine what your expression showed; whatever he saw on it disturbed him, sure enough, and why wouldn’t it? Why wouldn’t he be disgusted to learn that someone like you had feelings for him? Why wouldn’t he be horrified to see someone he took pity on watching his private moments with a lover? You would likely be horrified, too.

“Hazel…” He said, taking a step forward, reaching out a hand toward you. 

You came out of your trance and your feet unrooted themselves; you turned and fled inside. 

“Hazel, wait! Please come back!” You heard him call after you, his voice desperate, but you couldn’t look at him and didn’t want to be near him at the moment. As you launched yourself up the stairs, you heard a sharp CRACK sound, as if he’d kicked something hard enough to break it, and you also heard him loudly exclaim, “FUCK!” 

The last glimpse you caught of him was from a window in the hallway, passing several of his siblings as they rushed out to see what the noise was. There was a cut on his back leg and he had his head in his hands.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[genuflectx]

Terato/Exo Book List

Do you keep searching for that perfect novel? The one monster, alien, or non-human romance in a published work that captures you? But you just keep ending up on half-baked Goodreads lists curated by someone’s lonely mom who thinks changing a bodybuilder to the color purple is monstrous? Well look no further because I’ll read those books for you and rate them for an exophilia audience!

Right now the list is too short to be split into more categories, but as I add more I may include categories. 

They read like this: Book name, author name: Brief synopsis and sometimes a comment on it’s content, themes, or my enjoyment. {Whether or not the love interest is monstrous/alien/etc, whether it ends happy, if there was romance/sex, sometimes include if there’s major death} (a rating of my personal enjoyment out from 1 to 10)

★★★Everything is in alphabetical order. LOOK OUT FOR SPOILERS★★★

✦ A Soul to Keep (Duskwalker Brides Book 1) by Opal Reyne: “Bad omen” Reia is offered up to the human-eating Orpheus, who only wants a human companion. Reia must decide whether to risk running away or learn to like him and stay. Multiple long and detailed sex scenes and pred-prey kink. Has romance but it’s sort of 2nd to the smut. Not great but not terrible writing. Has rape victim blaming in it though, and sadly some non-consensual touching a the beginning. {Skull-head monster/human, happy ending} (7/10)

✦ Be Kind My Neighbor by Yugo Limbo: Wegg, a drifting musician, comes to the town of Baths and meets the friendly neighborhood handyman, Mr. Neighbor. They grow closer as a string of mysterious murders continue to rise in number. This one is a comic. Cults, horror, goopy gay trans love, kinky sex scenes, gorgeous psychedelic art! Mr. Neighbor is a living cloth-man with some fun things underneath (wink) and Wegg is an egg-person. I’m ALWAYS a big fan of Yugo’s work! {They’re both human shaped but Mr. Neighbor is monstrous in his own right, romance and sex, happy ending} (10/10)

✦ The Last Hour of Gann by R. Lee Smith: Amber, her sister Nicci, and a group of about 40 humans are stranded on an unknown alien planet. With the help of a medieval alien lizardman named Meoraq they travel to a temple that the humans hope is an ancient transmissions tower or skyport. It’s 421k words long, full to the brim with rape, fatphobia, misogyny, misandry, emotional abuse, second hand embarrassment... first read some reviews if you want to consider this. {Humanoid alien lizard man, romance and sex, mostly a happy ending. But way too long and rape scenes seemed fetishy} (4/10)

✦ The Mabon Feast (Wheel of the Year #1) by C. M. Nascosta: A witch ousted by her community takes a tenant into her Victorian house in order to make ends meet and not feel lonely. Turns out the only tenant she can get is a mysterious and sickly drider. She almost never sees him. Over the course of a few months things change between them and an aphrodisiac-like scent permeates the house. Things come to a head and get spicy. Very well written but sometimes overwhelmingly flowery! {Non-human spider centaur- i.e. a drider- love interest, fun but somewhat extreme sexual acts, happy ending} (8/10)

✦ Noumena Series (Axiom’s End/Truth of the Divine/Book 3 TBA) by Lindsay Ellis: A first-contact story with serious themes of xenophobia (alien and human) and severe mental illness. Cybernetic insectoid raptor-shaped alien/human romance. No human/alien smut in books 1-2, book 3 yet to be seen but the author has implied they might have sex in it. I suggest reading trigger warnings for this series. {Very non-human love interest, very sad story especially book 2. Found the plot, themes, and writing to be engaging with a few small writing-style annoyances.} (9/10)

✦ The Shape of Water (tie-in book) by Daniel Kraus: A re-telling of the film The Shape of Water. It runs through different characters’ perspectives, including the fishman. It has vague descriptions of human/monster sex, which is still more than the film gave. Ends like the movie. {Human-shaped but monstrous fishman, ends bittersweet but they don’t die, romantic. Found the writing to be somewhat droll at times.} (6/10)

✦ The Scorpion's Mate (Iriduan Test Subjects #1) by Susan Trombley: A human gets abducted for alien government experiments and learns she’s meant to be a mutant scorpion alien’s broodmare. Very generic romance novel writing, not very romantic, but sex scenes hot with fun kinks like pheromones. Has an odd kink of eating food secreted out of a dick hole though. {Very non-human, vanilla sex but non-vanilla kinks, happy ending. Generic writing.} (6/10) 

✦ Strange Love (Galactic Love #1) by Ann Aguirre: An alien accidentally abducts a human and her dog and she decides to go through challenges with him to prove they’re compatible mates. The alien is a non-humanoid insect-lizard thing with weird funky alien junk. Sex scenes are great, but I found the story and characterizations to be extremly lacking. {Very non-human love interest, interesting GNC sex scenes, bitter sweet ending. But the writing wasn’t too great. You get the sense that she was bored writing it.} (4/10)

✦{NOT WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR}

✖ The Ender Saga by Orson Scott Card: Consists of Ender’s Game, Speaker for the Dead, Xenocide, and Children of the Mind. Ender’s Game is the shortest, simplest, and imo best written. The first is a sci-fi classic worth reading, but is about a child with no romance. However, it’s sequels feature a multidimensional-controlling A.I. in it that eventually falls in love with a human, becomes human, and marries him. But romance is not a part of this series, these relationships are just sorta stated matter-o-fact. It’s not what you’re looking for and Card is a bit of a nasty person. The series also has weird focus on trying to paint colonialism and religious indoctrination into Christianity in a good light, and oddly has incestuous themes.  (Insectoid aliens, “pig” aliens, multidimensional A.I./human.} (Ender’s Game: 8/10)

[unknown-lifeform]

Announcement: upcoming FFVII fic anthology, ASGZC and monsters themed

I’m glad to at last announce something I’ve been working on for some time now, as it’s finally reached a stage where I feel confident making sharing. I am proud to share with you that I’ve been working on a personal, digital fanfiction anthology, centering on Angeal, Sephiroth, Genesis, Zack, and Cloud, and on exophilia. And by personal I mean entirely written by me, UnknownLifeform! Because I had entirely too many spare ideas and figured, why not?

What is this exactly, you may ask? Essentially, a collection of short one shots featuring two or more characters within the ASGZC polycule - to be fair, only some stories include the entire polycule, most won’t involve all five characters, because this approach gives me the opportunity of focusing more on the various individual relationships within the polycule. And when I say exophilia, I mean that in every one shot at least one character will be some kind of monster, mythological creature, or other nonhuman being.

Self indulgent? Maybe, but I hope you will also be interested in it.

But wait, there’s more! It might be more correct to say that I’m working on two such anthologies. That’s right, there’s gonna be two different PDFs. One will have a PG-13 rating, while the other will have a R rating. So, if anyone isn’t interested in smut, or is only interested in smut, they will be able to only get what they want?

And this work will be entirely free. Once the PDFs are published, I will put them up to be downloaded freely.

The anthology itself isn’t available yet, as I’m still working on some of the stories and on the PDF layout. In fact, the project is still unnamed as I’m... bad... at names. It will, I hope, be done by the end of summer, but I can’t give a deadline as of yet. I wanted to share with you in advance, however, because I’m extremely excited about it.

I have a FAQ page for the project. If you have any other questions, feel free to reach out to me through my tumblr ask!

I also have an interest check which you can take here. This survey, to be clear, isn’t meant to determine whether or not the project will be finished, because it will be. It’s just a way for me to gather some feedback.

Thank you for reading through the post, and, if any of you is interested, thank you for it as well! I’d also love if you could share this post so that it may reach more people.

[monstersandmaw]

more wlw stories from you would be nice ngl there are a lot of male male monsters on your master list

I've thought about how to answer this for a while, and the very short answer is simply that I don't identify with being female and never really have, so I find female characters much more difficult to write and almost impossible to relate to.

I could go into lots more detail about why, but I'm not really comfortable with that, so I'll just leave it there.

@lesbian-monsters and @lesbianmonsterlover are two places you might look for more of the kind of content for which you're searching, though both blogs sadly seem to have been inactive for a while. I know that there are more out there though, and @thetravelerwrites has an lgbtqia+ masterlist that is well worth checking out.

Other wlw content creators in the exophilia community should definitely feel free to chime in on this post so that Anon can find more of the content they're after!

[shortsharppricks]

Well, Hello There.

I'm going to be posting some short stories here as I attempt to drum up interest in my writing. Let's see if my marketing campaign goes well!

Disclaimers: I will be using AI generated art as a sort of reference for what the male love interests look like, but that's all. Everything else will be up to your imagination except-

My main characters are always full grown adults over 25-30. My Male Love Interests are often inhuman, like Elves, Demons and Vampires. So I suppose you could say my genre is Paranormal Romance, Exophilia and things like that. They always look mostly humanoid, though, so even vanilla romance and smut fans shouldn't have an issue.

I will be writing primarily short smut fics of both the original and fandom persuasion. Please block me if this isn't something you want to see.

The things I will be writing are enthusiastic consent-based, even the 'teaching your rival a lesson and putting him in his place' stories will have the explicit consent of the person involved in that scenario. So there is no non-con, dub-con or abusive relationships being depicted.

The only thing I will warn for is violence, BDSM and maybe bloodletting for various reasons. Some of them sexy, some of them not.

[magicalgirlagency]

I saw alot of people switching to using cohost - which they said can be able to replace tumblr. Would you sign up an account there too?

I don't know. I have no idea how Cohost works.

EDIT: My anxiety spoke louder than my stubbornness, so I have made a Cohost.

So far, it looks good; the layout looks pretty retro and chic, not to mention a tad bit less cluttered than Tumblr's!

However, I cannot post or make new sideblogs (referred as "pages" in there) just yet, because they're currently analyzing my email (just to make sure I'm not a spammer or anything malicious).

My URL in there is bewitchedbunny, same as my main, so it's easier to find me! Once I'm accepted in, I'll make each pages for:

Magical Girl stuff;

NSFW stuff;

Terato/Exophilia stuff.

And don't worry, I won't delete my Tumblr account; the blogs will remain here until the end of this social's life (that'll either happen by the irresponsibility of a certain someone or by KOSA being passed...)

So Long Story Short: If I ever disappear, you know where to find me.