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You see I too often sat in school classes and thought “when am I ever going to need this, I’m never going to be an engineer, I’m never gonna be a scientist, I’m never gonna be a linguist” and then I grew up and it turns out a lot of bigots and cults and scams and grifts hinge their entire business model on you just. Not knowing what a protein is or some shit

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Termite queen-like fatty

Rating: Explicit. Minors Do Not Interact.

Fandom: Resident Evil

Character: William Birkin, Albert Wesker, TQ017

Summary: Wesker and Birkin find something that should have remained hidden.

Content: xeno, nonhuman, insect to human, enormous fat monster, filmed, impregnation (extreme), noncon (well, implied noncon), termite anthro (sort of), extreme immobility, weird content dead dove do not eat

—

“You sure you want to watch?” Wesker teased, his cursor hovering over the file. It bore the name ‘TQ017-BREEDING’, which seemed rather ominous in itself.

“Come on, show me whatever punchline you have to those absurd joke,” Birkin scoffed. He had been working on something vital upstairs only for Wesker to have dragged him down into Umbrella’s basement facility to look at some absurd video he supposedly found. Now they were both sat on two rickety chairs over an old computer, it almost felt nostalgic.

“It’s not a joke,” Wesker insisted, more amused than annoyed.

“Al, seriously? The Termite Queen? That little urban legend?”

“Alright well, I guess you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Wesker double clicked the file and smirked, watching Birkin’s face as the video played - his face slowly going white as he leaned forward in fascination.

The beginning of the footage was odd, it started with strange panting noises and a blurred picture of pale flesh on top of something sickly yellow. The colours became distorted and there was a strange voice that Birkin couldn’t quite make out as if there was a large section of film that had been cut from the footage. This was fairly common in old videos in Umbrella’s archive for some reason. The footage crackled with the telltale lines of age flashing over the screen. The video began from an aerial shot, and it showed a gigantic yellow beast nothing particularly strange in itself. Its shape was segmented and there was an odd puss emanating from its behind. To begin with Birkin simply thought it an enormous insect - the product of many years of experimentation. However the next shot flashed to a different camera that had an angled shot of its front. It had a gut which was oddly human, it was if the segment of its back had been fastened to a person’s front.

The computer speakers crackled as the video played an odd gurgling sound. It then flicked to a different angle, this time showing it from the side. This made its transformation clearer, there was a jagged, blurred line between the two sides showing the back had gotten much further in the process. It had now all the way up to its neck become yellow and segmented, instead of the wobbling and rippling of the front it pulsed and shifted as if the beast had far more control over those sections of its anatomy. Its front however which rested on the ground seemed essentially like a human gut, it showed one breast which had been hanging too low for the second shot to capture. A bloated nipple showed that this creature had once been a mammal. Presumably there was a matching one on the other side.

“Well, this is unsettling and unpleasant. The stories however were over-” As Birkin spoke over the video he received a nudge from Wesker.

“Just wait.” Wesker sounded a little annoyed and spoke quietly, but the smile on his face said otherwise.

“Wait for-” Birkin stopped as the camera switched to one from behind. It took him a moment to realise what he was looking at it was a strange amalgamation of a monstrous but oddly humanoid vagina. The buttocks were no longer as one would expect, instead it was a thick, fleshy segment all of its own. It parted into two piles of fat that looked like they had been legs once upon a time. Now however they were predominantly just more bloated yellow segments of flesh. Between them was an enormous, cavern of pink skin with a white substance pouring out of it like a river. It almost looked as if someone had completely filled her with semen, which from what Birkin could tell was precisely what had happened. The screen suddenly went black. White text appeared on the screen in standard boilerplate font stating: Insemination of Termite Queen, donor fifty six. It returned to the creature, and a naked man appeared from behind his arm held in such a way suggesting that he was nursing an erection. He was dwarfed by the elephantine creature behind him, burying his face into its genitalia as he began to thrust his hips before the screen became covered in television static before the video finished.

“Wait, does that mean…” Birkin began, after a moments silence to process what he had just seen.

“That there was or is a big fat termite human creature beneath us that Umbrella is having impregnated by minimum fifty six men at a time?” Wesker interrupted, his smirk visible in his voice.

“Yes, I got that, Al. Thanks,” Birkin scowled. He huffed before he began again. “I simply am wondering if this creature was actually bred. Did it give birth? What did it give birth to?”

“Well if you want to know…” Wesker closed the screen and opened the file which contained another file entitled: TQ017-Birth.

“I mean, it could mean the creation of the Termite Queen-”

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh.”

“Want to see?”

“Absolutely yes.”

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Rampo and Poe \o/

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Characters: Edgar Allen Poe, Rampo Edogawa

Summary: Poe and Rampo go on a date to the local theme park. Shenanigans ensue.

Content: Fluff, Poe/Rampo

—

“Why are we here?” Poe asked frantically as Rampo dragged him by the hand through a crowded theme park, quite baffled by this turn of events.

“It’s a date, duh,” Rampo shouted back before stopping suddenly right in the centre so they were perfect distance from all the best games, restaurants, and rides. As well as just in sight hidden amongst the games was something that was just for Poe. Who had been quite shocked by Rampo stopping suddenly causing him to stumble and have to steady himself on Rampo’s shoulder.

“Ram, please can you be more-” Poe’s words failed him as he was frozen still for a moment, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. He was met with a sight so wondrous that any attempt to speak was futile. Rampo spun on his heal and grinned.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to spot it!” Rampo bounced on his heals and giggled as he watched Poe’s cheeks burn red as he was absolutely smitten.

“That is the most delightful, beautiful stuffed animal I have ever seen. An incredibly lifelike and adorable raccoon!” Poe exclaimed in pure glee, his eyes almost glistening with envy and a desperate need.

“You want it?” Rampo asked, he tilted his head causing his hair and hat to shift slightly.

“Of course I do, don’t be absurd!” Poe began, speaking far too quickly and his adoring blush becoming embarrassed. “But these games are rigged I am not so foolish that I can-”

“Okay one sec.” Rampo sauntered off the game with Poe running after him. The two of them heading directly towards the shooting gallery carnival game that was covered in different stuffed animals to be one.

“Rampo!! Stop! Not even you can defeat these conmen!” Poe did not consider keeping his voice down as he chased Rampo resulting in several annoyed and offended glances being thrown their way. Poe was wheezing from exertion as he stopped next to Rampo in front of a plastic gun that could be aimed at two different towers of glass bottles with corks in the stopper and numbers written on them. Each had a great deal of receptacles at the bottom in a wide circle, the circles getting smaller until they reached the one on the top, the number ranging from 5 at the lowest to 25 at the highest. At the stall was a middle aged man with a reddened, pick marked nose and a distended gut. He seemed to be more focused on smoking when the two reached the stall.

“Hey! You! How many points for the raccoon?” Rampo asked pointing directly at the stuffed animal that seemed to be twice the size of a living, breathing kind.

“Fifty,” the worker grunted.

“Hm.” Rampo was lost in thought for a moment, he looked at the sign regarding the pricing thoughtfully before he shrugged and smiled. Poe thought he’d finally given up but was stunned when he spoke again. “Okay! Gimme… three bullets.”

“You ain’t gonna get fifty in three, kid,” the concession stall attendant snorted.

“That’s true!” Rampo confirmed without further explanation. Poe looked between the two of them more confused than ever. Rampo loaded the air rifle and shut one eye as he focused intensely. He aimed the air rifle upwards and to the right, not at any particular bottle. He fired it and it hit the wall to the right, the man laughed and shook his head as he saw it but the way Poe stared in amazement gave him pause. Evidentially he spoke too soon, as the bullet bounced from the wall and hit the 25 points bottle. The small, rubber missile hit it in its base meaning the weight hidden in each receptacle was bypassed causing it to be knocked over. Poe was stood there dumbfounded and the man tried to splutter and claim Rampo cheated when he moved the gun to the far left and did the same again to the 25 points bottle at the top of that tower.

“Rampo!! You did it!! You scored fifty!!”

“I’m not done yet, Edi.” Rampo turned the gun to the centre with a slight tilt to the right, this time it ricocheted off the opposite wall to bounce back hit the final 25 point bottle which was sat on the display just out of what should have been the reach of the gun.

“That doesn’t count!!” The worker shouted, his jowls quivering as rage filled his body. Rampo tilted his head with faux-confused expression on his face.

“Erm, the bottle said 25 on it and I shot it down? So that gives me 75 points overall?” He pointed out, doing his best to sound baffled and not like he was using a loophole within the game (which admittedly he was.)

“I- that wasn’t-”

“Sir, he’s right he did hit three 25 points bottles,” Poe pointed out. The worker frantically looked between the both of them before sighing in surrender and frustration. Hatred spreading throughout his body.

“I- ugh. Fine! What do you want?”

“The raccoon and ermmmm…” Rampo looked around curiously. “I want the tiny cat. The tabby one.” The worker grumpily shoved both into Rampo’s arms.

“Don’t come back here, alright?” He grumbled as the two young men turned away and ignored him entirely.

“I love her,” Poe crooned as he held the prized raccoon in his hands and held it up into the air. “She is a true and perfect lady. I will call her…” He paused. “Lenore.”

“Can I call her Lenny?” Rampo asked suddenly as Poe wrapped his arms around Lenore and walked away from Rampo.

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay, well, I’m calling my cat Lenny.”

“What?! You’re stealing my-”

“You said I couldn’t call her Lenny?”

“Yes because it’s a stupid name-”

“Hey! That’s really rude,” Rampo teased, he nudged Poe with his elbow and placed Lenny the cat on his shoulder. “Lenny here is a noble beast and he’ll assist me in solving and fighting crimes.”

“I- you!” Poe signed and turned his attention to his new prize, holding it underneath its arms and into the sky like a newborn of a species thought to be extinct. “Well. Thank you. For Lenore. I will treasure her always.” Rampo didn’t reply, he simply rocked back and forth on his heals and clicked his tongue until suddenly he blurted out:

“Wanna see what else we can win or do you wanna go look in the Manor of the bizarre?” His voice was faster and giddier, Poe broke into an affectionate smile.

“Manor of the bizarre.”

“Whoever takes longest to figure out the trick buys dinner!” Rampo yelled over his shoulder as he began running towards the attraction.

“There’s no challenge there!” Poe replied just as loudly chasing him awkwardly and frantically.

“The challenge is to be speedy.”

“But you talk faster.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

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[envihellbender]

me, covered in my blorbo’s blood after I wrote a fic about them

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[envihellbender]

Look, pal, when I say "fanfiction does not have the cultural reach to be able to change social perceptions of controversial topics"

what I mean is "if Game of Thrones could not manage to normalize incest, a handful of shipcest fics on AO3 with 50 kudos each sure aren't going to manage to normalize it!"

And you know that. In your heart you know it.

[envihellbender]

TAROT OF THE DAY: for anyone who comes across this post.

The World reversed signifies stagnation. You're trying to seek closure, whether it's about a past relationship or the fact that you can't seem to feel the way you used to. Whatever you can't move past is troubling you and causing this period of no breakthroughs in your life. It's time to move forward, talking to someone close to you or even a professional should not be seen as a weakness. We all need to lean on somebody sometimes and it's okay to reach out for help. If you're dealing with a project that isn't coming into fruition yet, make sure you aren't taking any shortcuts. Good progress comes with challenges.

To book a reading or spell contact me here.

[envihellbender]

The 🎀 PRETTY PRINCESSES 🎀 behind Interview with The Vampire season 3.

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Graverobber thoughts?

Can I just ask is this Graverobber from Repo! or just about the general character idea of a graverobber?

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Wesker and Birkin but they’re just regular university roommates

Fandom: Resident Evil

Characters: Albert Wesker, William Birkin

Summary: Albert and William in a standard university AU running experiments on each other.

Content: illness, medical, experimentation, horrible boys being horrible, some bug chasing

—

Albert awoke feeling a burning heat in his chest, his extremities were shaking and his eyes were almost refusing to open. It took a few tries but when he felt a needle in his bicep, he forced himself awake and as expected he saw William stood over him. Thankfully the lights were switched off and all he could see was a shadowy figure, meaning he didn’t have to pick up his sunglasses to cover his blue eyes and protect them from the harsh light.

“Well, I could have anything from a stomach flu to sepsis,” Albert sighed, watching as the transparent liquid tinged with blue that filled the syringe was injected into him. He could see William’s cheeks raise a little in amusement.

“The sedatives worked for one hour this time, your attempts to build up your resistance are working,” William noted, slowly releasing the syringe.

“One hour.” Albert moved his toes and fingers as well as moving his head from left to right, no obvious signs of trauma or paralysis. “Assuming you’re telling the truth and not just stroking my ego as a distraction technique, the chances of me having an injury and it becoming infected that quickly are very unlikely.”

“You don’t want to check for wounds just in case?”

“You haven’t changed my clothes or bedsheets, yet I can feel no blood sticking to my body. I have generalised aches and pains. You didn’t injure me.”

“So, a stomach flu? Is that your guess?” William sounded incredulous and mocking, which caused Albert to sigh in annoyance.

“I- No. Obviously not. Nothing so pedestrian.”

“So?”

“I don’t …” Albert furrowed his brow, it was harder to think as he felt some sickness overtake him. Sweat was beginning to build in his hair. “Hm. You have injected me with a second bacteria.”

“You think so?”

“I think that is the true puzzle. I think the first is to mask a distinctive symptom.”

“An interesting theory.”

“Hm. I think the first is a disease that doesn’t have a clear identifying features from first glance. A flu would come on too strong, no. I think the first virus is Hepatitis B. The second…” Albert paused thoughtfully. He focused on every part of his body and how it was changing. He felt a clouding sensation in his head, almost an ache but not quite. He felt less secure in his movements and coordination. He had a thought, but it seemed highly unlikely. Only one way to prove it. “William. Pass me a Coca Cola from my oligo-refrigerator.”

“One coming from the mini fridge coming up,” William scoffed. He passed it to Albert curiously. He shakily took it and sat up, he took several gulps in one mouthful and swallowed it, winced at the pain in his chest. He took a sharp breath in and felt the gas build up in his throat. He pushed it out causing a loud, rather uncouth belch. He inhaled the scent that congregated around him. Yeast.

“Auto-Brewery Syndrome,” he answered triumphantly. There was a loud beep from William’s phone indicated the timer had been stopped.

“Three minutes and thirteen seconds.” William put down his phone and picked up the notebook they used to note down all of their scores. “Not a bad time but still sixteen seconds behind the high score. When I-”

“Yes, yes. You guessed Legionnaires disease in two minutes and fifty seven seconds,” Albert interrupted in annoyance. “How did you give me ABS?”

“I have been slipping a form of yeast extract from the Candida family turned pathogenic in your food.” William smirked as he saw Albert about to ask another question. “The injection was saline to throw you off.”

“Hm, well.” Albert’s raised eyebrows told William just how impressed he was. “So, this is what it feels like to be drunk. I don’t care for it.”

“The concentrated form of both bacterias will be out of your system in approximately forty minutes.” William began to take off his antibacterial gloves and tidy away the instruments including the vial of Hepatitis B.

“Fifteen minutes quicker than usual?”

“Yes, well, if my shortcut works.”

“I have a marine biology class in two hours,” Albert sighed. “it would be interesting to witness the dunces under the influence but alas.”

“Well, I’m sure we can find some alcohol somewhere if you are that curious.”

“No. But how would you like to be infected with a concentrated form of Hepatitis B?” Albert’s smooth pick up line resulted in a chuckle from William.

“Mm. Absolutely.” He slipped his pyjama bottoms and underwear down and kicked them off before sliding under the comforter with Albert. Quickly straddling his hips, he adored the feeling of feverish skin beneath him and he couldn’t wait to feeling the diseased semen fill his hole.

[envihellbender]

Thoughts on Jake getting chubby?

Yes. Absolutely. I love this.

The issue is that he’s too always on the go for it to be feasible with his physique. But you know who could make it feasible? Sherry. So we know they lost their own family and don’t have anyone else, however they do have Jake. And they’re constantly worrying about his welfare and safety. So, when Jake is at their place one night they cook for him - he looks so content, and the way he stuffs his face is so hypnotising. And they cook for him more, big huge feasts with high calories. At first Jake just starts hanging around a bit more, even whilst they’re working. The best part is when a small belly begins to poke out underneath Jake’s t-shirt. He knows what’s going on, but he doesn’t mind as such. He assumes his genetics mean he’ll always be physically fit and able to do his job… but he doesn’t know just how fat Sherry fully intends to make him.

Jake generally doesn’t like sweet things very much, but he eats carbs like there’s no tomorrow. Bread is his favourite, he’ll have so many different types of bread and cheese and he’ll just keep going. He’s top heavy I bet, mostly carrying it in his gut and chest. As he’s almost certainly a muscle chub, he can probably keep quite a bit of mobility more than most could. Meaning health wise he’s essentially ‘chubby’ even when he’s five hundred pounds.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, Jake having a belly hanging out of his t-shirt, snacking massively when he’s doing the boring admin side of being a Soldier of Fortune, and having Sherry make sure he’s stocked up on all the carbs he can eat is… Fantastic.

[envihellbender]

Succession mention in @overheardnewyork

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Yandere Cam :3c

Rating: 18+

Fandom: Date Everything

Characters: Cam, Rott (Player)

Content: ssbhm, feedee, feeder, abusive dynamics, Yandere, force fed, trash eating, emeto, maggots, mould, gross, Dead Dove

Summary: Cam forces his paramour to eat disgusting things he finds out of some twisted, possessive jealousy.

Cam seemed to be procrastinating from their date as he took as long as possible sorting the trash into what went in the incinerator and what he wanted to keep. After this he’d have to take it to the incinerator which was the primary part of his job, normally this took no time at all but today it was painstakingly slow. This meant Rott had begun clinging to its massive pile of adipose to comfort its pains of hunger. Even though Cam didn’t say as much, clearly he was still furious about how he thought it had been flirting with Eddie, and he wasn’t letting it go. The biggest tell however was when Rott saw Cam pick up a KFC family feast, it was soaked in some unknown liquid - either from the food itself or something else mixed with it.

“Dinner time, babe,” Cam teased, shaking the dripping cardboard bucket, there was still chicken wings inside of it but they were rotten. There was mould collecting on the flesh, and there were small maggots crawling inside the tunnels they had buried in the meat. He looked at Rott as its eyes widened and it stared at the fast food with a desperate want in its eyes.

“Is that… how much is left?” Rott asked uncertainly, Cam had been delaying their dinner for thirty minutes now, and it was beginning to feel faint. Somehow even the rubbish in the junkyard was starting to tempt it.

“Like, eight wings.”

“I… How long’s it been there?”

“Dunno.” Cam smirked as he looked at Rott’s quivering, plump lips. He pretended to be surprised, but its desperation was exactly what he wanted. “Are you actually contemplating eating this right now?”

“I- Maybe.” Rott admitted causing its cheeks to glow pink showing their mortification. Cam playfully slapped one of their pale, bare fat rolls. He stood there for a moment, admiring its girth, he adored how it was so confident in its obesity that it happily sat in the junkyard in just a pair of basketball shorts that were stretched to their maximum. Rott didn’t really fit into t-shirts these days, to Cam’s delight.

“Tell you what,” He began deviously. “If you eat this then I’ll know you’re telling the truth. That you love me, that you are fully devoted to me.”

“I- Seriously?”

“Don’t act all proud now, babe, you’re the one drooling as you look at it.”

“I just-” Rott began, but it went quiet as it watched Cam pick out a rotten chicken bone with his index finger and thumb. Before Rott could continue he held it in front of Rott’s face. Its cheeks pale and it looked as if it was stifling a wretch, but a moment later it open its mouth and let Cam force it inside. “Oh, what a good rotten cunt you are. Look at you, maggots crawling out. Let me get that for you.” Cam pushed his finger into the corner of Rott’s mouth and pushed the maggot back in. “How’d that taste, baby?”

“Gross. Fuck. I’m gonna be sick.”

“So you don’t want another? Guess you don’t really love me then.”

“Give it to me,” Rott snapped, it burped towards the end disguising its words, the stench of decay and vomit filling the air. Its grey eyes burning with determination made his intent clear. Cam picked up another bit of carcass that had become infested with disease and white, pulsing creatures. This time he shove it into Rott’s mouth and was astounded when it simply opened up and let him shove it so deep into its mouth it hit its throat. After that Cam didn’t even have to feed it, it simply began to rip apart the disgusting meal with its own two hands.

“Look at you, stuffing your face with no idea how much bile and shit is around your mouth. How much of it is pooling in your neck roll.”

“I can’t… can’t eat anymore,” Rott wheezed, his skin pale and his adipose trembling. He grunted and his entire face was tensed, screwing up tightly for a moment before releasing, he was desperately trying not to vomit.

“Come on, just one small one left. You can do it. You love me enough for that, right?”

“I- Okay. Yeah.” Rott picked it up shakily and screwed its eyes shut. Before it could think too much about it, it wolfed it down not out of greed but out of a desire for the ordeal to be over.

“Oh my God, baby. That was amazing,” Cam crooned, repressing a laugh at how Rott looked like it was about to vomit all over its enormous, bloated, wobbling, chest. He loved seeing it like this, at its most base and disgusting. “I love you so much. More than anyone else ever could.” Cam kissed Rott’s lips, pushing an escaping maggot back into its mouth with his tongue. “I think you’re beautiful eating rotten foods. I think when this makes you puke all over your pretty chest, when it makes your belly hurt so much you cry, you’ll be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. No one else would ever think that. They don’t get it. Don’t get how you being such a pig for me makes you so special.”

“I’m- I’m gonna-” Rott let out another burp, this time with a putrid yellow bile dripping out of his lips.

“I know baby, be my pig,” Cam said desperately, he backed away but he placed two hands on Rott’s ample gut and pushed down. “Cover yourself in your puke for me. I want you to be so disgusting no one else will ever want you. Just me. Can you do that?” Instead of answering him, Rott let out an agonising retch as yellow and red vomit was sprayed all over its chest. It soaked his pale skin and hairy bloated breasts, making him almost look like a ball of trash himself. There were maggots crawling around in its creases and bluebottles whose wings were soaked desperately trying to fly away. “Well, lucky for you I’m a sick puppy. And a maggot eating, vomit covered, rotting pig boy is just what I wanted for Christmas this year. You’re so beautiful.” Cam said, falling onto Rott’s chest - covering himself in vomit and kissing its lips despite the foul taste and smell. “No one else will ever want you or find you beautiful. Just me. I’m fucked up enough to realise how wonderful you are. You’ll never find anyone else like that. Ever.”

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i went to "mad at me" island expecting to find people i knew, something i understood. but when my boat landed, standing upon the shore were a million empty husks wearing my own face. every foot of the island was occupied, and everywhere i went, they watched me with contempt. they never spoke, never breathed. they simply watched. no matter how i grovelled and begged, snarled and cursed, tried to hide or kicked and hit, they simply stared. the hatred in their gaze was inescapable, but i could hardly return it, knowing that their doomed existence was of my own creation. knowing that the hatred was nobody's but my own. in the end i just wept, unable to stand the relentless gaze of my own infinite glare.

the guy who i accidentally cut off in traffic last week was there also

[envihellbender]

they are so crazy and so gay