From beneath thick arctic ice the Qalupalik hums her strange songs and calls out to the young and vulnerable. She lives to seize badly behaved children and stuff them into the pouch on her back. Once bound tightly the sealskin bag, the screaming child is dragged down into inky depths to serve the Qalupalik’s dark whims No one knows precicely what happens beneath those black waves, some Inuit tribes claim the Qalupalik sucks away the stolen children’s youth in order to maintain her immortality. Others believe the children are placed in an enchanted sleep, or drowned slowly and excruciatingly over months, or even years.
Whatever fate awaits those who fall into her clutches, children who live in the ice-choked north are taught from birth to stay away from the ocean’s edge when the hear the popping, scraping, humming tune that the Qalupalik produces when hunting.
An excerpt from my artbook of female myths and monsters from around the world- The Feminomicon
Bear returns in a story just as steamy as the last. She owes Moth some money, and she’s willing to pay it back in a various manner of ways. Join Bear as she enjoys her time off.
I’ve always been a troublemaker, no way of getting around that. As a kid I would pick fights for seemingly no reason except I enjoyed the chaos of it. As I got older and mixed sex into it, I really became too much for my family to handle. After being kicked out, as they thought it would set me straight, I found my true calling in life with mercenary work. I also found a place that felt more like home than with my family. That place was the Granmouth Pub.
Now, don’t think I learned any lessons or anything, at the rotten core of my being I was an incorrigible troublemaker. I caused chaos and drama at the Granmouth just as much as anywhere in the world I went. The only difference was, at Granmouth I had a friend who understood me and allowed me to pay off my debts. Moth, in a strange way, was my guardian angel. Back when we first met he was stressed and anxious over some debt he owed opening up the bar. I offered my services to help him pay, and from there a beautiful friendship formed. From there, Moth willingly put up with me. Sometimes he even put up with me gladly.
Moth was nicknamed for the large birthmark on his face. The way it was shaped, covering his eyes and down his cheeks, it looked like a moth, even the splotches formed a pattern similar to the moths that hung around the torches at night. He was big though, so no one really messed with him about it. But underneath it all, Moth was a sweet guy. But I learned that you never pressed his buttons, or you’d really see what he was capable of.
A story of a dragonborn lady who values her privacy and distance from people. But then that all changes when she find an injured human on her doorstep.
Female Monster/Reader x Female Human
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I started noticing some strange things a few days ago - strange noises and movement in the bushes. I first thought it was just some animals, but then I found things like tracks in the mud outside my cave, discarded apple cores, and plants missing from my garden. Perhaps there was something bigger than the usual rabbit or mole sneaking around.
I’ve been living on my own for a while, because keeping to myself is better than the alternative. So seeing signs of life out here bigger than a rabbit, but smaller than a moose, is quite disturbing to me. I laid a trap, hoping to catch whatever has been stealing from me and stalking around my property, but the trap and whatever was thieving from my garden were gone by morning. There were traces of blood in the dirt and on some of the plants as well. Hopefully, this warning was enough to scare the intruder off, and if that didn’t do it, the foreboding storm clouds above would be the finishing touch.
Thunderstorms around here are no joke. I’ve been all over this world, and the rain here seems to fall heavier, harder, and meaner than most places. The temperature drops precipitously, and the black thunderheads in the clouds are like omens of death.
Another long story! A sort of slow burn as a selkie learns to trust, and an exuberant elf who tries to win them over. Old clothes made new. swamps. House boats! It’s a queer romance to help with your holiday woes.
Female Main Character (Trans) x Female Monster (cis)
It was disgusting. This ratty, almost skin like thing that I had found. I guess it had gotten kicked up from the gutter or tossed out from the trash bin, but it had found its way onto my stoop. It may have been a coat at one time, I’m not sure. It certainly had all the characteristics of clothing, it had just been through everything by the looks of it.
I’m not sure why I felt so bad for it. After all it should have just been garbage to me. But there was this little- I’m not sure what I would call it, maybe a spark. I felt a spark for this discarded piece of trash, and that spark told me to keep it around. I left it to soak in some soapy water while I went out for groceries, hoping it would help with some of the ick that permeated it.
When I got home the sink was completely brown, I almost thought that the thing has dissolved. Once I pulled it out I was surprised to see it was almost black. There were still spots where it was patchy and dirty, but all the grime on it had it looking gray and crusty. I gave it a good hand wash, afraid of what putting it through the washing machine would do.
Once it was dried, I was relieved I kept it. Something told me that someone was missing this discarded piece of clothing. I only hoped that I could find whoever it belonged to so I could return it. I washed it again a couple of days later and gave it a good box dye. The black looked so faded and sun damaged I thought it could use a refresher. I hung it out on my porch so it could get some sun, and in the light it looked so much prettier, although I noticed some spots where it would have to be patched and fixed. I had an old coat I never wore anymore anyways, I rarely wore much black these days. I could probably just take the lining out of it and sew it into this coat and it would look good as new.
This story takes place in a familiar setting, a village where a sex cult resides. The villagers are trying to live their lives, but not everyone agrees with their methods. two assassins attempt to sneak into the village, but they end up getting caught in the life of the villagers and their lovely leader, Reverence.
Male & Female Main Character x Multiple Monsters/Humans
Grown up between mountains and rugged cliffs, the remote village was almost hidden from the world. Those who knew about it either stayed away due to the rumors, or wandered closed out of curiosity. Those lucky enough to stumble upon it by chance rarely left. Two such souls found the village when they were tracking down a necromancer for a bounty. They had been waiting at the edge, hidden in the forest for the past couple of days, studying the ins and outs of the daily life of the village. “This place seems strange, Dio. Something isn’t right,” the larger of the two murmured.
The smaller one, Dio, came down from a perch, setting aside their spyglass as they reached into their bag. “We don’t need to worry about it, Demi. All we need is the necromancer. Once we have him we don’t have to worry about this place ever again.”
Demi furrowed his brow. “I’m not so sure.”
“We’ll strike tonight, and slip into his home once all the lights are out. We’ll take him back and keep him alive as long as we can,” Dio sniffed.
Demi watched them, then turned his gaze back upon the village. “I hope that’s all it is. I really do.”
This story takes place in the royal palace of the Polar within the Ruby Empire. Artisans are being brought in to teach the royal children as well as strengthen the Polar’s culture. This story includes pottery and romance.
Male Reader x Female Monster
I’ll admit it, working for the Polar royal family is intimidating. Working in the Polar is intimidating, period. Everyone here is so big, so prepared to face the harsh and bitter climate. As a halfling, I really don’t belong here, and I am reminded of that daily. Even the royal children are starting to grow taller than me now, and I have known them since they were newborns.
Czarina Katrina adores my work though, and has appointed me as the artist in residence for the palace. I have sculpted several statues for the gardens and halls, and more for the cathedral where Katrina grew up. I am proud to be able to freely produce my art here, and I enjoy the Polar even if I’m the only halfling in it.
Katrina has done wonders for education and the arts in the Polar. Where before everything was poured into military prowess, she has enacted remarkable educational reform. Her insistence on reinvigorating the dying arts of the Polar has her bringing in local artisans, and she provides them funding to enable them to teach their craft. She wants to strengthen all the advantages the Polar has to offer, cultural as well as martial. “The more Polar culture is introduced to the world, the more others are made aware. We become great through practice, and we seize attention with our skill.” Katrina says this often. It sounded vain at first, but now I can see what she means by this.
I teach sculpting at the cathedral, one of the many classes that are held there. But most of my work is done at the palace. I am often watched, which does not bother me as much as it used to - mostly by Gregori’s grandmother, or guests of the family. Other times it’s other artisans that Katrina calls in.
kinktober teaser ; day fourteen female drider (green lynx spider) x gender neutral reader 448 words lime | lingerie, body worship, Much Flirting
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Lace’s long, green fingers pluck at a strand of fabric on your hip, smile growing wide as she pulls it taut. It vibrates, like a signal for captured prey and then she lets go, mandibles chittering. The smallsnapbarely stings, but a prickle of pain isn’t what Lace is after, having you dress this way. The lingerie isjust this side of too-tight, skin spilling over the straps that spiral strategically around you from throat to ankle. It’s likely that it should make you feel closed in, but Lace’s work is meant to highlight a body, not hide it.
