#Monstrous May

[johannestevans]

Breeding season for a monster and kabru being captured and on the verge of being pinned down and fucked

And laios rushing to rescue him and hesitating to study the situation for JUST a second before disentangling him

And kabru afterwards being. Mindnumbingly horny about the idea of laios leaving him to be bred by some creature

Kabru imagining getting fucked or eggpregged by a monster in rut, desperately horny with the aphrodisiacs pumped into him, belly bulging with cum or eggs

And the idea of laios just watching him, touching himself, or even touching kabru, saying earnestly that he's doing a great job and that he's really adding to the ecosystem!

And laios when kabru mentions it is like

What??? No, I wouldn't let Something hurt you!

And kabru who mutters, what about one that wouldn't hurt me? By doing this?

And laios going, no, no, I care more about you than monsters--

So insecure about being misread, about being thought of as compassionless or uncaring

kabru humiliated as he tries to express in the least direct and explicit way possible (to laios, one of the most literal men in all of creation) that he WANTS this, that he wants this as a sex game, and he's trying to get laios to play without kabru having to admit he wants it

[magicislikelove]

Hey! So I've wanted to do the Monstrous May Prompts (Litterally already missed day 1, so here's the makeup post) The Prompt for May 1st is 'The Tentacle Beast', so here's some Monster!König.

Link to the Monstrous May Creators Post is below the cut!

[meerawrites]

Monstrous May: the bat

"Bats drink on the wing, like swallows, by sipping the surface, as they play over pools and streams." - Gilbert White

Alternatively titled: they did nothing wrong, release them, they are just night sky babies.

10 cool bat facts

Bat Conservation Trust

[wordsyettocome]

Monstrous May Challenge Day 7: The Creeping Vine

The cables humans built entwined themselves with plants, and before long, they became something new, neither plant nor computer.

Cables lengthened and twined around anything they could find, crackling and suffocating and strangling.

It is now a single organism, ever-growing and ever-expanding, and nothing can survive in its wake. Where cities and forests once stood, there is nothing but an endless pile of plastic and metal.

Everyone runs from it, but they know they run in vain, and that the beast will claim them eventually.

You may also enjoy 'City Limits'

Inspired by this post by @the-unseelie-court-official

Monstrous May Challenge 2024 Prompts

[zoannearts]

Did a little sketch for monstrous mays prompt “the tentacle beast”, I had a very busy day today so I haven’t done anything too elaborate but I felt like doing something for it,

I may do another drawing for this prompt maybe something a bit more 🌶️ 🌶️

[wisedo]

MonstrousMay Day 6 - Monster's Hide

A-Xiang is playing hide and seek, A-Xing just needs some time alone.

[emptymanuscript]

Monstrous May Challenge 1 & 2

Combining Day 1 and Day 2, “The Werewolf” and “The Monster’s Teeth” for the monstrous may challenge into one story because I missed yesterday. Nothing sexy toady.

Toothless she was and frail.

Ylona’s old gums pained her with the clenching of her jaw.

What a bitter thing it was to be old and powerless. They put her in a corner and gave her potatoes and a knife that was barely up to slicing that thinness of skin. And weren’t they kind, see how we take care of old granddam. We let her sleep by the fire instead of the convenient choice of by the door so we wouldn’t have to take care of old granddam next year.

She skinned the potatoes thinking of her son.

Pyvrek had been a bright eyed boy. Full of trouble that had made Ylona laugh and indulge him until he was too big for control. A great bear of a man like his father before him who took what he wanted and smiled with his bright eyes when he took it.

His bride had been the most beautiful girl. Because Pyvrek took what he wanted and a bright eyed boy full of trouble didn’t know the right things to want. She was a pitiable thing who didn’t realize her ‘power’ would fade and she would be set aside for another girl, someone prettier in the earlier bloom of her youth.

Perhaps Ylona should have loved her bastard grandchildren. Turn the other cheek. Even if it was the hind one in a barn. Like they were rutting ram and sheep, her son and a girl too young to know better. There had been three true born grandchildren. Each set tenderly in the dirt behind their home in a row that their mother ended. Each one had taken a little of her love with them. Until there was only an ember and one girl left.

Ylona still had a smile left for her youngest. A smile and a disinterested pat because it was better not to get attached.

The girl grew up like all children do. A pretty girl, her Halura. Too pretty. And the eyes of the other bear-like men and the counting men and the pretty men all turned to her.

Ylona warned Halura, do not go into the barn alone. Or off anywhere alone with a man. Halura had listened so she couldn’t be trapped.

But there was nothing Ylona could do about her son. Her son couldn’t be turned by a pretty face. He couldn’t be turned by threats. But the glittering wealth counted out for Halura’s skin… that could turn a man’s head. And as the favors piled up higher than the gifts, her son found his eyes ever brighter. So more was counted his way. And the chaff of youth fell before the wealth of ever older and more miserly men who leered ever more openly at what would soon be their property.

Halura at last came Ylona where she skinned and cried her heartache. It didn’t matter who she was eventually sold to. The truth was already there. She would be sold. Her master would be old and have no human feelings for her. She would be a treasure to be locked away and die in the vault by one means or another.

Ylona gave her a smile because what else could she do for her granddaughter? Her son would not listen to her. Her new daughter in a law was barely a stupid stripling girl herself, growing crueler on the indiference of her husband who hadn’t shown as clearly before hand that she was just another treasure to be used up and thrown away. How kind we are. We told her she was beautiful. We showed her love. What a shame she became so sharp and unkind. No appreciation.

Halura begged. “Granddam, help me.”

“I am toothless and frail.”

“I have no one else.”

“What can I do? No one will listen to me.”

“I will listen.”

Ylona had nothing. A place to sit. A knife that would barely cut. Potatoes. She was old. That was what she had. Years. Time and tales. That she could give to her granddaughter.

“You must get me a long, thick, strong rope. One that even your father with a knife would take a long time to cut. Without it, there is no hope for you.”

Ylona peeled her potatoes and waited while the young girl set to hope. In two days, Halura brought her a thick rope made for lifting heavy stones.

“You must get me a knife sharp enough to cut this rope like butter. Without it there is no hope for you.”

Ylona knotted the rope with care, turning it from a single length to a trap that would bind and lift by the weight of her potatoes.

Halura brought her a knife and when Ylona cut the excess from the woven rope, it did cut through it with ease even though her hands were weak and shaky.

“You must get me a fresh cut of meat, something delicious that even uncooked will make us drool for the want of it. Without it, there is no hope for you.”

Ylona filled the trap with potatoes until it was so heavy she couldn’t lift it.

Halura returned, the tangy smell of bloody meat making both their tongues seem to swell and sweat with the need to stuff it in their mouths.

“You must help me carry all this into the woods and set the trap. Without it, there is no hope for you.”

It was a long walk and her bones ached with the distance and the weight. And when they were in the forest, Ylona forced them onward until even her granddaughter shook with the effort and weakness. There they set the trap over a tree that stood by two crossing deer paths.

Halura spread leaves over it with care to hide it even from a demon’s eyes. And Halura set the meat in the trap so that all the songs of the forest stopped.

Ylona held the far end of the trap in her shaking arms so not even an inconvenient breeze could move and reveal the snare. And the scent of peeled potatoes rubbed onto her as she shook so she was like a root herself.

“You must run home now and never say where you have been. Never hint where I may be. If ever a man realizes what we have done, there is no hope for you.”

Halura ran as best she could.

Ylona stayed and trembled as the sun set and the moon rose and the forest stayed silent. Her body begged for rest but the last energy of the dying came to her and she held fast.

At last something dared the path. Eyes shining in the moonlight. A wolf came to the meat, sniffing cautiously.

It snatched the meat which triggered the trap, the extra weight finally overcoming Ylona and she toppled to the ground as the wolf rose into the air. She lay, panting a long time as the wolf thrashed and curled and snapped at the strong rope that held it over the ground. Only as it weakened did Ylona push herself up, conserving all her strength until she needed it.

From the thick woods beyond the path many eyes watched her, bright with the setting moon. Ylona did not flinch or stop but approached the snarling wolf with her sharp knife. Her witnesses howled only once, with her wolf, they chorused with his death howl and then one by one they turned away as she cut the corpse free.

She skinned the wolf. Laid the skin flat. And in the dark of the night she laid herself into the skin and waited for some evil to come to the crossroads.

They placed two sticks in a cross next to Halura’s mother on the far side of Halura’s sisters. And for a month, for propriety, they were allowed time to mourn.

Perhaps, if they had not been given a full month.

Perhaps, if Pyvrek had been a kinder man.

Perhaps, if Halura had not been so headstrong.

Perhaps, if the men had realized it was only the beginning.

What man can say what might have been? They can only say what did happen.

On the night of the next full moon, the first of the wolves came to Pyvrek’s door.

Fatal she was and so full of teeth.

[menagerie-of-monsters]

The cold light of the moon fell across the Beast as he stalked through the forest, illuminating him in silver glimpses. His long tails trailed behind him, glittering with hoarfrost, and the silken iron-gray fur of his flanks still showed the dark stains of blood and soot. He knew I was there, of course. My prince had senses to defy the imagination. The light breeze at my back swept my scent towards him, and after months spent tracking him my sweat and the oils of my skin would be easy for any beast to identify, let alone one like him. If he wanted to get away from me, it would be simple. He was far faster than the deer I traveled on, even if I could convince them to race after him. But he didn't run this time. He snarled at me once, baring his scimitar teeth and making my stag shy, but he let me keep pace with him. Perhaps after five months of dogged endurance, the Beast had realized that I wouldn't allow him to vanish into the wilderness. That I wouldn't turn back. It didn't matter where he led us, or how long I needed to spend living off the land or the frozen remnants of his meals. He was my prince, and I wouldn't leave him to the wilderness and the scant mercy of the gods. I would follow him into the jaws of Death himself. No matter what he had done. No matter what he became. I would never forget where my loyalties lay.

[cmrosens]

The Monster's Teeth

cw: human teeth, graphic sensory descriptions

He wasn’t meant to be here. 

He knew he shouldn’t touch anything when he was in the Big House, and his mother had told him to stay in the kitchen.

He could hear grown-up voices shouting and calling from all over, some commotion and cries of “Fetch the doctor” and gossip from the parlour maids. The kitchen was too hot, too crowded, and half the staff were rushing in and out when they had no reason to be, just to hear the latest from the cook and the housekeeper, who had repeated their stories a hundred times and had enough tea and biscuits to repeat it a hundred times more. Normal service was suspended. 

He didn’t understand what was going on, only that there were too many people. 

Nobody noticed when he slipped away into the quiet panelled corridors where he could breathe, and snuck around the grand staircase to the other side of the house. Here was the master’s study, the smoking room, the big, long dining hall, and he crept into the first empty room he could find as a place of temporary solace. 

He wasn’t meant to be here. 

The study was an avalanche waiting to happen, drifts and peaks of papers and books everywhere, coloured chalks scattered on the bare boards with the rugs rolled up in thick sausages, the grate empty and cold. 

He shouldn’t touch anything. 

He knew that.

But there was a cabinet full of tiny drawers, none of them labelled – or if they were, the labels were in such tiny, spidery writing that he could barely make out the words. Thomas, said one. Araminta, said another. 

He opened the drawers one at a time, and the tiny boxes slid out, contents nested in hanks of wool. 

Tiny milk pearls with bumpy ridges, pronged roots embedded in the softness underneath.

He opened others, unlabeled. The contents of these were bigger, yellowed, decayed. Their roots were rusty, stained. He didn’t understand, but he was transfixed. 

Each drawer contained more treasures, pitted and ulcerous, pearly and perfect, molar and premolar, cuspid and incisor. They rolled hard and sharp between his finger and thumb, gritty and salted under his tongue, grating under his own teeth as he bit them to test their authenticity, like a man biting coins. 

Chips scraped off in his mouth like tiny shards of eggshell, little bits of grit that felt wrong in his mouth. 

He explored the bumps and hollows, the points and planes, growing used to the contours and forbidden taste of iron and salt.

He made the collection his own by touch and taste, placing the possessive stamp of saliva on each and every one he could find no matter how his taste buds rebelled, detecting traces of chemicals and cleaning fluids, until the collection was entirely his own. 

Sliding the last drawer back in place, he heard his mother calling his name. 

“Dicky Pendle! You’re for it, when I find you.”

He snuck himself into a musty corner of the study and waited for the door to open, for the heavy hand of righteous fury to descend on his shoulder and yank him out for a belting. It didn’t matter, when he had a bright new secret to keep.

[writer-rider-flirty-thirties]

It's tea time... with an Angel! 84/101 of Fanfic Wars (2022)

[johannestevans]

Monstrous May 2024

Once again, the time is nearly upon us - with less than a month left of April, it's soon time for #Monstrous May!

Monstrous May was first established in 2021, and I've arranged prompts for each May since - for each day of the month of May, there is a prompt involving and invoking the monstrous.

Create art, sculpture, write fiction, poetry, make whatever you feel inspired to! Create for as many or as few days as inspire you, collaborate with friends, and have fun.

Fan creations are just as welcome as original ones, and naturally, erotic and adult creations are as well as SFW ones!

Have some questions? Here’s the FAQ from 2021. Otherwise, feel free to reply with any questions or HMU with more of them!

Want to see prompts from previous years?

Here’s 2021.

Here’s 2022.

Here's 2023.

[magicislikelove]

!Very slight Nudity!

Catching up with Monstrous May, day 2's prompt is 'Harpy'.

OG list post below cut.

[meerawrites]

Monstrous May: the gorgon

"I would like you to teach [the monsters] civilized behaviour," said Ladyship coldly. He appeared to consider this. "Yes of course, I think that would be quite possible," he said. "And who would you send to teach the humans?"

- Sir Terry Pratchett

Gorgons were three powerful, winged daimones (demons) named Medousa (Medusa), Sthenno and Euryale. Of the three sisters, only Medousa was mortal.

Gorgons (before the ancient Romans) - source.

[valharlowe]

Hawke is hiding a secret; one that Cullen will discover when he visits the manor on the night of the full moon. (Explicit/18+)

The full moon lighting his way, Cullen Rutherford hurried through the streets of Kirkwall, hand on his sword.

What Meredith needed from the Champion at this hour, he would never know. And he didn't dare ask, either. The Knight-Commander had been in a temper, as of late, and he didn't want to be the one to test it. No, it was best simply to do as she said, and deliver the message to the Hawke Estate.

But he was ill at ease. He could still remember the stories he had been told as a child in Honnleath, of the strange things that happened on the night of a full moon. Maleficar and worse.

Cullen shook his head. He was a man grown; a Knight-Captain of the Templar Order. He had been tortured by demons and lived to tell the tale, not that he ever spoke of Kinloch Hold.

There was no fear to be found in children's tales. Not any longer.

read on archive of our own.

[wordsyettocome]

Monstrous May Challenge Day 6: The Lion

The lion slumbers today.

It lies on the bridge at the edge of the harbor, seeming to all who see it as an unmoving statue. But if you dare go up close, you can see the rustling hairs and feel the steady breaths.

The boats pass into the city safely, for the lion slumbers today.

The lion slumbers today.

The coming and going of boats is as busy as ever, but no matter the day, the captains always pause at the bridge, look up at the lion, watching for any sign of movement.

The lion slumbers, but something is off.

Its breathing is no longer rhythmic. It twitches. Its head lifts off the ground.

It yawns, licks its lips, and its eyes slowly move to the boats below. Its mouth turns into a snarl, and its legs prepare to pounce.

The lion will feast today.

Monstrous May Challenge 2024 Prompts