#tree monster

[skelizard]

Trank doodle in my sketchbook, a bit overgrown there buddy. Anyway merychippus.

[teatime-tangents-and-toys]

In 2023, I did a project called DIFFUSION where I took three (or six, rather) of the fused ghouls and reinterpreted their monster blends as a single original character concept through doll restyles. Dracubecca became Tinny Tinkerpins, a clockwork tin toy robot, Cleolei became Maupet A'Duat, a reincarnated Egyptian cat given humanoid form (also wasn't altered as a base, and merely redressed), and Clawvenus became Dendrea Barker, a haunted dogwood tree. I didn't work with Lagoonafire.

Read their posts here:

Intro

Tinny and her finalizing second pass

Maupet

Dendrea

[siryl]

Impossible castles scanned from The Art of Ian Miller.

[regency-monster-love]

I just saw an ask for another user that gave a prompt about a woman who chains herself to a tree, which ends up being an ancient forest deity. I thought it was such a clever idea and really wanted to see how you'd write it 💗

I would tag the asker but it was anonymous. The writer is @rs-hawk. A great take as well, just a different style than yours :)

Ooh fun idea! Thank you for the prompt! I just went and read the story by @rs-hawk—it's great, everybody check it out here!

Here's my take on an ancient forest deity in tree form. It's kind of like The Giving Tree, but smutty and without any tree death 😂

"Your tree"

Male tree deity x female reader | NSFW: vaginal and anal penetration with vines (essentially), bondage, emotional hurt/comfort

He was young when you first started visiting him, as were you. Still, he was big enough for you to play under his branches, sometimes with other children, but often by yourself. He'd watch the way your face lit up in happiness at the little games you invented, enjoy the stories you recited out loud and acted out for your own amusement, listen to the musical sound of your laugh.

He was there when you cried, too, curling your arms around yourself or burying your face in your hands, your tears soaking down into his roots. Sometimes you'd talk to him, telling him what had occurred to upset you. "Look at me, talking to a tree," you'd mutter, not knowing what he really was. You'd pat his bark. "But at least you're never cruel to me, Tree," you'd add. "You're always here for me, as silly as this is."

It was never silly to him. He always worried over you when you cried.

He was there the first time someone kissed you, the young man drawing you under his branches as you giggled. He watched the man lift your face to meet his mouth, listened to you sigh happily, felt the press of your back against his trunk as the man continued to kiss you. Through his bark, he could feel the way your heartbeat sped up, blood rushing more swift and hot through your body in your exhilaration.

That was one of the last times he saw you. You married the young man, moved away from the village, away from himself. He saw you every now and then over the years, when you came back to visit your family, and often you'd visit the tree, too, for old times' sake. But as he grew larger and heartier over the years, he watched you fade as you aged. Still beautiful, but less vibrant, less happy.

It was years later that you returned, and wept with him again. You curled into a ball amongst his roots, your back pressed against his trunk, the vibrations of your wracking sobs sinking into him, making him tremble in sympathetic pain.

"How could he do this to me?" you wailed. "He's betrayed me for years, and now he's left me altogether, Tree! After all the years and love I gave him." A choked sob left you. "It's my fault. I should have seen what he really was. I was such a fool. I deserve this misery."

NO.

You jumped at the deep, preternatural voice, jerking your head about with wide eyes. "Who's there?"

You do not deserve this. You deserve happiness.

You scrambled to your feet to stare at him. "Who's speaking?"

He let his face reveal itself, and your hands flew to your mouth as you gasped. But you didn't scream, nor did you run.

It took some time for him to explain to you what he was: a forest deity, tied to this tree, and that he'd been aware of you for most of your life, watching over you, caring for you.

I can take care of you now. I can make you feel better, if you trust me.

"I trust you," you said quietly.

He couldn't separate from his roots, but he could pull himself free enough from the trunk to form a body something like a human's, with arms that he held open to you. You stepped into them, and he wrapped you in his embrace as you sighed in relief. Thin green branches sprouted from him to curl around you too, twining around your back, your legs.

A few branch shoots slipped under the hem of your skirt and began climbing your legs. You gasped when they reached the bare skin of your upper thighs. Feather-light, the tip of one stroked over the lips of your sex, then wiggled into your folds. It licked up the wetness forming at your entrance, then drew it up to the bud at the top of your sex and began to circle there.

You moaned as it worked you, and the other shoots joined in, drawing your slick out of your body to caress it over your heated flesh, smoothing the way for them to sink into both of your holes. They were thin and smooth, so there was no pain, but as they started to pump in and out, you felt them swelling, slowly stretching you from the inside. Never had you felt so full, a growing pressure that made pleasure coil tighter and tighter in your belly.

He watched your face as he took you, marveling at how bliss transformed it, making you more beautiful to him than ever. "Kiss me!" you cried out, and though his kind didn't kiss, he'd seen you do it before, so he tried it, pressing his rough lips to your petal-soft ones. You swept your tongue into his mouth, making him grunt in surprise. He could understand why humans did this, now—this was quite pleasant. He kissed you back even harder.

There were branch shoots everywhere now, twining around your breasts, flicking at your nipples, stroking over your face and neck, and still they thrust into your holes, carrying you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. He could feel that you were nearly there—your thundering heartbeat seeped into him, just as it had all those years ago when you'd been pressed against him for your first kiss.

Take it. You deserve this pleasure.

Your climax struck like lightning, flashing through you with blinding euphoria, making you shake from head to toe, but he held you steady in the safe cradle of his branches as it worked through you.

Finally, you slumped in his hold and sighed, and he slowly let his shoots retreat, slipping out of and off your body, until only his human-shaped arms were slung loosely around you.

Never think that you deserve misery. You deserve every happiness.

His voice was firm, but in a way that was comforting in its surety, not intimidating. You could feel his care for you in his voice. "Thank you, Tree. Oh! What's your real name?"

I have no name, not of the sort I can put into words for you. I like when you call me 'Tree.'

You smiled at him. "All right. Then you'll continue to be my Tree."

~ 😈🎩 ~

I banged this out in one go today without really editing, but I'm gonna post it already anyway because it's Earth Day. Happy Earth Day! Please don't get this freaky today, but talking to a tree should be safe.

Read all of my Regency monster ficlets and snippets at the tag #my writing or my master list.

[ungojirasapiente]

was in the mood to draw some more minecraft stuff, here's The Creaking! ------ Tenia ganas de dibujar mas cosas de Minecraft, aqui esta el Creaking!

[demonangelgirl134]

This creature haunted me in my nightmares last night

The dream I had was where I was in a scooby doo type paranormal investigation team, and we were investigating a haunted redwood forest, and we set a trap for the monster and we were hiding and waiting for it to come along, and BY GOD, it did. It appeared behind me and picked me up, but put me down, and I ran back to my group, and for some reason, I lost the ability to scream for a few minutes, and as I was frantically telling my group, the monster slowly appeared out of the trees and we all booked it to the car. And it poked its head in through the car window before we drove off.

If you guys could give it a name, what would you call it?

[mysticraven17]

Mystic Timbers 🌲

_____

Finally got around to making the ref sheet for what is probably my favorite coaster character i've designed (totally not biased at all), the one and only Mystic Timbers! I plan to write a short story about her someday, so figured i'd give her a ref (though i also mainly did it for artfight cus i wanted mystic timbers to be on there lol)

Lore:

This creature mysteriously appeared in a run-down shed in Miami river lumber co a mere week after it opened. It was said to have arose from the ground, erupting through the sheds wooden floor, and caused the deaths of almost every employee at the lumber mill. To this day, no one knows where it came from or why it exists, some speculate that it was born of natures wrath. But no answer has ever been found; and not even the bureau of paranormal activity knows exactly why it exists.

[evolutionsvoid]

A giant Teraknon that walked the lands, Sheelnagi was the fear of every official and priest of the Church. Those who had a high status within the golden faith were considered a target of this horrible child. While there were other Teraknon who would happily tear a saint or renowned preacher to pieces, there were many who would prefer that fate over what Sheelnagi offered. Born from the use of a branch coated in hardened Amber, she was like a massive walking tree, a giant who shook the lands with each step. Though immense in size, that was not what terrified people so. The real horror lay within her split body. A bubbling gash ran up her form, and from it oozed a waterfall of Amber, the sticky false humor that traps everything it touches like flies to glue. Sheelnagi would use this fluid to imprison foes inside her, their bodies being suspended in an endless sleep. Long sticky tendrils would lash out from this wound, snaring victims and dragging them into this gurgling maw. There they would be trapped without change, robbed of both life and death. Amber is feared by many because it can preserve a person for eternity, preventing them from returning to the cycle til they are broken free from this prison. And a prison she was, as Sheelnagi was tasked by her Mother to hunt down and abduct high level members of the Church. 

Those she stole could be used as hostages, interrogated for information or be presented to Chalaz. After Sheelnagi swallowed up a hefty amount of victims, she would return to the Palace of Milk and Miren to unload her latest haul. Prisoners would be examined, their fates decided by their uses. Some would be freed from this Amber trap and threatened to serve under the threat of being put back in. And in certain cases, victims would be left inside Sheelnagi as both a trophy and a message. When the people learn of a beloved priest or renowned warrior forever imprisoned inside this monstrosity, they are quick to know fear. Sheelnagi greatly enjoyed her work, seeing her prisoners as a wonderful collection. While she was told to focus on important people, she had a knack for snaring pretty animals or interesting people to add to her assortment. Seeing this giant scoop up and swallow victims with glee earned her the name of The Consuming One. And since she was trapping valuable members of the Church, it was obvious that she needed to be stopped. Etzba took it upon himself to see this giant fall, so that her vile mission would end and her prisoners could be freed. 

At such a size, even his mighty hammer seemed puny. A weapon like that wasn’t going to harm her in the slightest, and many soldiers had either been consumed or crushed attempting to chop her down. He needed something far mightier to fell her, as well as a smarter plan of attack. He would go to a temple of Ichor to seek advice, and while he prayed, he witnessed the punishing of a conman who had been selling trinkets of fake Ichor, supposedly blessed by a saint that never existed. His scheme brought an idea to Etzba’s mind, and he took this lucky encounter as a sign from the Ichor that this was the path. He would then go to the priests of the temple and ask for several pieces of old vestments. They would grant him these items, each of which he would anoint with holy Ichor. Next he would consult the records of the various churches across the land, getting the names and locations of certain Church members. From the list he compiled, he would write each a special letter and include a torn piece of vestment as well. These messages would be sent out through the Church’s courier system, while he gathered the materials he needed to make the plan complete. He would use the remaining vestments for a special task, while he himself wore the clothes of a commoner. After enough time had passed, and Etzba was sure his letters reached their destination, he took his disguise and went out to find Sheelnagi. 

When the wooden giant was spotted on the horizon, he was quick to stash his weapon and supplies. He would encounter the Teraknon with only these rags and an old tattered book of worship. Etzba secretly positioned himself in Sheelnagi’s path, so that the abomination would stumble upon him as she stomped to her next victim. When the monstrous titan was upon him, he played the role of a cowering peasant, begging The Consuming One for mercy. Sheelnagi looked down at the pitiful creature with disinterest.

“Save you pathetic mewlings,” she told him in disgust. “A worthless heap of rags like you is of no interest to me. Only the finest specimens shall be added to my collection.” 

“Oh no,” cried out Etzba, “you don’t mean to take Saint Fictus! No! Please! Not him!” The name made Sheelnagi pause in her journey. 

“Saint Fictus? Who is this you speak of?”

“Do you think I will buy such a lie?” Etzba asked the towering creature. “A great foe of the Church would know of Saint Fictus! He is such an important figure to many, truly a patron of knowledge and wisdom! No doubt you are on your way now to nab him for your twisted Mother!” 

“Do not speak ill of Mother, cowering bug!” Sheelnagi snapped in anger.  “This Saint you speak of, where does he dwell?” 

“No! I mustn’t say! I cannot allow you to take him! What will the Church do without our beloved saint?!” 

“Tell me now or else you shall join the other miserable wretches in my gullet!” 

“Anything but that! Please!” Etzba conceded, acting terrified of such a fate. “I’ll tell you, but please spare me! He went north to Pinna, no doubt to hide from you!” Sheelnagi looked north, but did not stride away just yet. 

“You best not be lying,” she threatened. “Or I will return and swallow you whole.”

“I swear to you that I speak the truth! Here, see this tome? Saint Fictus has touched it, leaving his mark. This is proof that I tell you no lies!” Sheelnagi was quick to send forth a tendril to nab this book. She brought the ragged pile of papers to her face and took a whiff. Indeed, a special scent was upon this tome, obviously belonging to this beloved saint. She would use this to hunt him down and consume him. From the sounds of it, he was a truly important figure of the Church, and thus it made him a prime target. Without another word, the giant walked off to Pinna to claim her prize. Once she was gone, Etzba retrieved his gear and headed to the spine ridges. The plan was in motion now, and he had to set up the finishing touches. 

Sheelnagi would trek her way to the town of Pinna, in search of this Saint Fictus. Her arrival caused the citizens to run into their homes, all save for one. A faithful of the golden Church would stand before her and ask what business she had here. 

“I have come for Saint Fictus,” she bellowed to him and the rest of the town. “Do not stand in my way unless you wish to share his fate.” The fellow who confronted simply shook his head. 

“Unfortunately for you,” he admitted with worry, “your trek has been wasted. Saint Fictus heard you were coming, and he fled east to Oxter.” Sheelnagi rumbled at this in anger, causing the man to shrink in fear. “Please, I speak the truth! I have a piece of his stole right here! It tore off when he hurried out of town. If you do not believe me, search our settlement to your heart’s content, you will not find him here.” Sheelnagi grabbed the patch of cloth and sniffed it. Indeed, it had the very same scent. And when she lumbered around the town, she could not find the saint anywhere. It would seem that he did escape east. And so with an annoyed growl, she headed in that direction, towards Oxter. 

What would soon follow was nothing more than a series of frustrations, as when she reached Oxter, she was informed that she had just missed the saint. The people said that Saint Fictus ran south to Hallux, and produced a piece of alb that carried his scent. And so came the long journey down south, only to be told once more that Saint Fictus was not there. They held a discarded cincture that the saint left behind in his hurry to escape The Consuming One, and informed her that he headed west to Chelidon. Sheelnagi knew she had to head that way to catch this prize, but she was getting tired from this endless journey. But if Saint Fictus was truly such an important figure for the Church, Mother would certainly want him captured. So she slowly lurched to Chelidon and let out a groan when the saint was nowhere to be found. All she got for her trouble was a chunk of chasuble and directions to head north once more. This time, though, the people said that Saint Fictus had fled to the spine ridges, hoping to lose her in the wilds. This at last gave hope, as it sounded like he was running out of hiding places. She sure hoped so, because traveling this many leagues was incredibly tiring. 

Sheelnagi headed to the mountains, trying to find the scent of this annoying saint. Walking these slopes was not great when she was already exhausted, but she couldn’t stop now. Surely victory was close at hand! She searched between the spires of ivory, where great tusks reached towards the heavens. At last her persistence paid off, as she spied a small hut upon the mountainside. Using what little energy she still had, she hurried to the pitiful dwelling and used her tendrils to rip the roof off. To her relief, a figure decked out in the Church’s vestments was hiding under a table. She could see pieces missing from his clothes, and the scent was the same too. She had finally found Saint Fictus! Without missing a beat, she sent forth a mass of tendrils to snare this prize and quickly suck him into her body. To be sure he would never escape again, she jammed him far back in her Amber guts, where he would pay for the sin of wasting her time and energy. But little did she know that this had been a ruse, as what she swallowed was nothing more than a dummy wearing Church clothes. Well, save for the unstable containers of Yellow Bile that had been stuffed inside the bait. 

When she forced the fake saint into her gullet, the pressure cracked these flasks and caused the humor to leak. Its volatile nature would quickly cause a chain reaction, and suddenly her latest prize exploded within. The blast was powerful, but the thick layers of Amber suppressed it, preserving the prisoners and avoiding real harm for befalling her. However, the great bubble it formed in the Amber scrambled her insides and made her woozy. It disoriented her as she struggled to get over the wretched feeling of her own guts boiling. As the titan stood dazed, Etzba leapt forth from his hiding spot. With a mighty heave, he launched his hammer at Sheelnagi, nailing her right between the eyes with it. On its own, this blow would have done nothing but annoy her. However, the weariness from her travels and the disruption from the internal blast had weakened her, causing her to teeter on her own two feet. The strike to the forehead was enough to knock the unstable Teraknon right off her balance. Tendrils flailed and she teetered, but she couldn’t stop gravity from winning out. Sheelnagi’s massive body fell over, where she would land on a towering spike of ivory that jutted from the earth. The giant spear impaled her, killing her on the spot. 

With her titanic body now still, Etzba summoned the forces of the Church to help him in rescuing her prisoners. Thankfully, their Amber prisons had protected them from both the explosion and impaling. With the right equipment and fluids, all the victims in her last haul were successfully extracted. They were a bit woozy from the imprisonment but unharmed, grateful to be freed from this horrible and cruel fate. Her giant corpse would be harvested for its wood and Amber. The wooden parts would be used in crafting the shafts of the arrows and harpoons that would be used against Miteras. Some of the Amber would join that battle, but the rest was used for containing the Church’s own prisoners. Those deemed too dangerous or heretical would be sealed away in this Amber, keeping their evils from spreading any further. And by keeping them out of the great cycle, they were preventing their taint from infecting others. The worst of these frozen criminals and sinners would be locked away in the Golden Vault of Carceratum, while others would be kept in other prison temples across the land. At last, the vile pieces of this monster were being used for peace and justice.      

This tale of victory over Sheelnagi also led to the humorous acceptance of Saint Fictus in the minds of the followers of the Church. Though not officially recognized as one, the people of gold hold Saint Fictus as the patron of conmen, hyperbolic storytellers and deals that are too good to be true. For when calling out someone for ludicrous claims or tall tales, the name of Fictus will be jokingly invoked. When you hear someone regaling a friend about an impossible bargain or a catch that seemingly grows with each telling, you will probably hear “Ah! And blessed by Saint Fictus, I imagine!”