#implied alien abduction

[wanderrealms]

MyGrain - Dreamscape (melodic death metal)

[kabr0ztrousers]

hi, big fan of your writings!! could you do a fem!reader being free-use’d and bred by anthropomorphic bug people, with noncon/dubcon, and intox/drug venom? the darker and more objectifying, the better!

More bugs? Plus egging, intox, noncon and the reader having a really, really bad time? Sounds like fun!

Kabr0z Writes Episode 45: Resistance

This episode concerns Chitinids, we've seen them before in episodes 25 and 26

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Noncon; warcrimes; military occupation; intox; freeuse; Interspecies; group sex; oviposition; implied impending character death; parasitic pregnancy; forced breeding;

A/N: Another day, another reminder that requests are open, and that if you want to see anything, send an ask or a DM and it'll be added to the list of stories to tell!

Long-time readers will notice a bit of a retcon with a returning species of alien bugs, but hell to it! Nobody's reading these for the rich, cohesive world

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The cities were clean. The streets quiet. Everything eerily safe and sterile. The Chitinid gunships patrolling sky saw to that. They were silent, hanging ominously in the air in exactly the way bricks don't.

You hurried from your office, aiming to get to the old library before one of them noticed something awry. There's always people on the streets, going to and fro, everybody had jobs although nobody really did anything at them. The work was just sitting in meetings and firing off salvos of emails that would be diligently opened and summarily ignored. Chitinid tech had ended world hunger, cured almost all disease, even fixed the climate. Only problem is, it came at the cost of billions of human lives.

They didn't try to hide the farms, where people were processed and converted to semi-conscious milk producers, or the trade in human pets where some of the wealthiest of your insectile overlords would own a human or four, implanting them with cruel machinery to force their subservience. They also didn't hide the 60-minute war, the last stand of the old world. London, New York, Washington, LA, every city with more than a million people was emptied within ten minutes of formal first contact. Humanity launched every warhead that seventy years of paranoia and hate had stockpiled. Those suspension fields caught every one, redirecting them to deep space. The last of mankind capitulated.

Except you, and a dozen or so others you knew of. Rebels in the dark. Your cell was in terse contact with another, who told you they knew of at least one other, and so the chain went on. It's safer if no one link in the chain know too much about any of the others, but some interesting word has come down the grapevine. In your bag was a thermos filled with nitroglycerin, one of your friends was working on a detonator, a set of elevator codes had came over the radio.

The plan was simple, get to the parts together, get to the roof of a building, and drop the package onto a gunship. It wouldn't win the war, it wouldn't even reallt slow them down, but it would send a message. They hadn't won yet, far from it.

The cell met in a cellar under the library. The building had been a pub decades ago, and the old cellar still existed under the stone floor, the hatch hidden under a rug behind the reception desk. Nobody said much, the group was too close knit to need signs and countersigns. The device came together gradually, a cacophony of held breath as the mercury fulminate charge was lowered into the flask, and you were set.

No time to lose. The plan was your baby, and you weren't going to leave it to chance. The codes you had were for an office building, likely to be empty this late at night. You dodged the pools of light coming from the streetlamps. The foyer was unlocked, as promised, and the lift code worked. Clutching your flask to your chest, you ascended the building. It used to be some bank or other, now it's the same office as everywhere else, but the building was still tall.

The penthouse office. You moved carefully, an overeager step would echo off the polished marble tile. The huge desk stood unoccupied, the roof access behind it. You made for the rail overlooking the west corner of the building, and there it was. A black shape on the dim streets below. The gunship stopped at the intersection and scanned its surroundings. You dropped the bomb.

An azure light caught it in midair, projected from the gunship. You ran. A confinement field shone down over you, inches from the door back into the office. Dust whipped around you. The world flipped.

You're in a cell now. Three Chitinids stood watching you. They spoke amongst themselves, or maybe they were speaking to you? You never learned the chittering language they used, and they don't normally speak English. You tried to move in the azure light, the tingling numbness stopped that. One of the bugs held a screen to your face. The library. Your stomach knotted up as you realised, this is a live feed.

Gunfire rained on the old building, within seconds it was rubble, a minute reduced it to a hole. You screamed, rage and hate filling your voice. The bugs laughed, keeping up the bombardment.

One approached you, pushing its sharp mandibles into your face. Strong hands gripped your clothing, tearing it off. You floated, naked and immobile as the three bugs paced around you, pinching and prodding, laughing at your yelps and threats. One grabbed your ass, pulling you weightlessly towards it in the field. A sharp barb jutted out from its mouthparts, and sank into your shoulder.

Your yells turned to moans. It had drugged you with something. Your body got hotter. You tried to turn and grapple it, but all the strength in the world wouldn't move you. One in front stepped up to you, both forelimbs on your tits as one of the lower arms grabbed your cunt, sinking angled fingers into you.

Your body spasmed, you swore as you felt yourself clench around him. The one behind you laughed and bit you again, giving you another dose of the venom.

You came around the fingers stuck in you, cursing and crying as you did. It released your tits and knelt down in front of you, using its forelimb to tease your clit as it pumped its hand into you.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt another orgasm come on, you tried to suppress it. The one forcing its hands into your cunt bit you. Its mouth barb lanced into the flesh above your womb, instantly driving you over the edge again. You felt yourself spasm and squirt uncontrollably as the roaches laughed at you again. They tipped you over, flipping you end over end in the light, bringing you to rest face-up, waist high to them.

They loomed over you. Sizing you up as you quivered and squirmed, your breath catching, fluid still dripping in thick droplets from your cunt. Chitinous plates parted on the one stood near your face. A long, ribbed appendage slid out of the gap, dripping dark fluid of its own onto your face. You felt your legs part and what you imagined would be a similar thing brush the lips of your swollen cunt. A chittered word, and both thrust into you at once.

The slime was thick, and bitter. It hurt your throat to swallow it, but it filled you with heat, stronger than the venom from their mouths. The one in your pussy was having a similar effect, making your walls shudder and clench against it, the ribs of its exoskeletal cock stimulating you as he slid them in and out of you. Tears were streaming down your face now, moans turning to screams, and back to moans as the cocktail of aphrodisiac mingled in you, driving you beyond your breaking point.

All you could feel was the cocks pounding your body, again and again making you cum all over them.

All you could see was the screen, the smoking hole that was the library burned into your mind's eye.

You felt the one in your throat cum. It forced itself further in, spraying a thick slime down your neck. You gagged, the instinct to swallow the only thing stopping you drowning on the thick cock-slime being pumped into your belly.

It hurt. The slow-moving load coating your insides. Every beat of your heart making your head spin. You couldn't even feel the one in your cunt unloading into your clenching womb. The potent drugs in their sexual fluids keeping you dazed and in a constant orgasm.

You didn't notice the third had a different appendage. Wider, with a bulbous tip. You didn't sense it slide into you, pumping eggs into your cunt where they lodged into your womb, fertilising from the ocean of bug spunk in your body. You could half-see it as it lay its ovipositor on your lips, stopping your breathing as it forced its way into your throat. More eggs, pushing down into your stomach, fertilising, embedding.

You wouldn't be able to know what would happen to you when the eggs hatch.

You couldn't know the hosts of Chitinid young rarely survive to tell of what happens next.

You'll find out

######################################

Dark enough for you?

[poptart-cat-78]

The visuals of “Down Bad” from The Eras Tour be like:

[echidnana]

it is pretty weird being over 30 episodes into a series and still having barely any idea of what's going on

[cvntoid]

Moon Fever

Joel’s acting funny, but he is not a werewolf.

under the cut: sweat, being chased in the woods, fear (so much fucking fear), soft ABO dynamics, soft sex-pollen vibes, heavy dubcon/noncon, forced orgasm, Joel knots, implied breeding, fingerfucking, did i say sweat? lots of sweat

A lot of the time, being stuck on an endless stretch of road is… well. Not your favorite idea, to say the least. Even with the day having been nice, and Joel being in a decent mood, it’s still hours spent in his truck. Sitting. Staring. Throwing bits of conversation at him while he occasionally interjects with a grunt or a laugh. It’s not that he seems to mind; he just seems distracted. 

One side of the road is a big, grassy expanse, open field that’s occasionally graced by a few trees or patches of dirt, of swamp and thin, rotting logs. On the other side (your side, luckily), there’s a seemingly never-ending wood. The trees are fairly dense, all those green canopies joining together to shade the forest floor and its inhabitants from the late-day break in the clouds. The sun is already on its lazy descent down before any of it can really be seen. It’s been super overcast the last several days. Seeing snatches of sky is more than welcome at this point, not to mention feeling the weak warmth of the dying light. 

Joel swipes a big hand over his forehead. He keeps peeking low to look up through the windshield, keeps craning around to glance at the sky. 

“Look, if you’re seeing, like… a UFO or something, you gotta have to point that out to me. It would be super selfish to keep that to yourself.”

“A UFO?” Joel looks distractedly at you, half irritated, half completely lost. “The hell’re you talking about?”

“You keep looking around like we’re gunna get abducted by aliens or something.” You half-laugh, waiting barely a beat before shrugging a shoulder. “I mean it was a joke, but my feelings on the subject aren’t a joke. I’d be pissed if you, like… did see one and didn’t point it out, is all I’m saying.”

“You should try sayin’ less,” he mumbles dryly. 

“Fat chance of that, pal.”

“Not your pal.”

“Well, that just makes you a liar, Joel.” You side-eye him a moment, watching him take a little breath and nervously flex his fingers on the wheel, his thick knuckles going white when he grips it once more. “Hey, are you… are you okay?”

“M’not thinkin’ so, no,” he admits, avoiding your persistent, searching gaze. A drop of sweat skims down over the side of his face until it disappears into his facial hair. “My mama used to call it ‘moon fever’. Every month, just about, for maybe - usually only a night, sometimes two.”

“Moon fever.” You roll the words around on your tongue, trying to figure it out. “So, you got, like - a disease, or something? Not a disease, a — I dunno. A condition? Something like that? Why’d she call it ‘moon fever’?”

“Moon’s always full,” he says gruffly. 

“The moon’s not always -”

“Yeah, no shit, kid. It’s always full during the fever. Fuckin’ gotta listen to me.” Joel sighs and the muscle in his forearms flex as he squeezes the driving wheel again. He spares a quick glance your way, and to his credit, he almost looks guilty. Almost. “Sorry. Jus’ feelin’ irritable.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Sorry.”

“No, y’don’t - don’t need to do all that. I’m the one that… yeah.” He trails off, and that nervous energy remains, filling the car like some invisible kind cloud, thick as cotton, muffling out anything that might make sense. For the first time, you feel a tiny pang of fear in your gut. Joel is being so unlike himself, and even if he’s sick, like… what exactly does that fucking mean? You need him to be solid, to be normal, and those aren’t things you can just ask him to do.

“Every full moon,” you parrot quietly. “So - so, kind of like a wer—”

“Do not,” he interrupts harshly. “Don’t fuckin’ say that.”

“Jesus, I was just -”

”Ain’t a fuckin’ joke. Listen, we’re gunna need to pull off soon. Ain’t staying in the truck. Not - not me, anyway, got it?” Joel turns and levels you with his gaze, and at this point the fear starts to build a little, a trickle of ice sliding up your spine. 

“Joel, not to be, like… I know you don’t feel good, but you’re kind of freaking me out,” you say, and your forced laugh sounds more like a nervous scoff. “I’m sorry I said the thing about - um, I’m sorry I’ve been kind of annoying. Whatever you need, I wanna help…”

“I know you do, darlin’. I know you do,” he says, and the strain in his voice makes everything worse. He sounds awful. Sweat isn’t just beading on his forehead anymore - he’s got a sheen of it, and he rubs the back of his hands over his cheekbones, his forehead, running fingers through his hair to get the slicked strands out of his face. “And what you’re gunna have to do is - is you’re gunna have to keep the weapons in here. Givin’ you everything I have on me til daybreak, understand? Knife, gun - all of it stays in here. Locked. With you. M’sleepin’ in the woods tonight.”

“Um - what? Joel, no, that’s so fucking dangerous, and I can’t -”

“You will. I’m gunna be okay, honey, just fuckin’ listen to me. Lookit me. I mean it.” 

Joel pulls the truck over by jerking the wheel, his breath heavy in his chest. The vehicle crunches on all that gravel, the dirt and rocks as he slams a foot on the break. The both of you rock with that motion and slam back against your seats, eyes silently meeting - yours, full of fear, confusion. His… what is that? Clouded? He looks like he’s being tortured alive. His sweat has started to slowly seep into the collar of his ratty t-shirt, turning it dark and damp. The cords of his throat are slick as well, cheeks pinked - he does look feverish. Feverish and upset in a way you don’t understand. Seeing Joel like this is throwing you off your axis, forcing you to reckon with a possibility that you’ve never considered before - Joel being out of control of something. He sighs, his chest shuddering with it.

“You promise me now,” he says, staring into your eyes. There’s something wrong with his, but before you can really figure it out. He reaches over to grasp your thigh and his grip is too tight, almost painfully so as he turns his whole body to face you. “You promise me that no matter what I say, you keep in this truck and don’t listen to a fuckin’ word I tell you. No matter - fuck, no matter what I say. No matter what I do. You gotta stay put.”

You stare at him, wanting to nod, wanting to be good for him, but it sounds crazy. You’re scared. Panic rises up inside your chest and you watch mutely as Joel pulls out his handgun, his knife, anything he might have on him. It’s then that it becomes a little too real - you realize this entire excruciating moment, you’ve been waiting for him to go back to normal. To stop being so scary. And now that he isn’t, it’s too much. Your heart thumps in your throat, skin vibrating with fear as he sets his things into your lap. His hands shake, too. Fuck. Oh, fuck.

“C’mon, promise me. Need to hear it. I’m gunna leave the truck, okay? Say it. Don’t got a lot of time before -”

“Before what?” You ask weakly. God, you feel sick to your stomach as his eyes go too soft, sad, pleading with you. “Joel. Before what?”

“Before I can’t control myself anymore,” he manages, reaching for the door handle. He pushes the driver’s side door open and turns a last time toward you. “You fuckin’ lock these doors. Wanna see you do it, okay?”

Just as he asks, you lean over to push the lock, making sure each lock is set, each window rolled up. You slip his knife in your boot almost without thinking, putting the gun in the glove compartment as you watch Joel walk into the trees. 

You sit like that for a long, long time, listening to the nothing-silence of nightfall as the truck settles, as the birds stop chittering. It’s just the occasional breeze and the sounds of your own breathing and shifting in the passenger seat, staring off into the woods where Joel walked off long after he’s disappeared. It’s hard to avoid the feeling of being completely alone and spooked. Afraid. Anxious. You crank the seat back so it’s nearly flat and stare at some of the stars dotting the darkening sky, all velvety dark blue now. No hint of sun. How much time has really passed? How long have you been gazing fearfully out that window?

Sleep takes you a lot easier than you think it might. One moment you’re forcing your eyes shut, thinking of Joel alone in the woods, how awful he’d looked. Then… nothing.

It’s a sound. There’s a sound; in your half-conscious haze, you think of that urban legend you knew from childhood - how did it go? Something about a scratching at the car door, a hook hand. Something. 

The car door. 

You slam solidly back into your body in a violent jolt as consciousness drags you back up from the depths. It’s still absolutely black out, stars and trees and nothingness. A wild-eyed glance gives you nothing - nobody at the windows, nobody scratching at the car door. No Joel. Just you, the cold truck, and the glaring, full moon keeping its luminous eye on the area. It takes very little time to adjust to it, to allow that light to seep into everything and allow you to really see. 

And your bladder’s full. 

Well, what the fuck are you supposed to do about that…? Joel never covered this in his frantic fucking panic, did he? 

Waiting feels impossible. No position seems to help with the sharp, uncomfortable pressure, and there isn’t anything in the truck that could work as a good receptacle. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You stare out the windows for a long moment, anxiety making everything worse. God, there must be hours left until morning. But if you just - if you slip out really quickly, relieve your bladder, and run back to the truck? I mean - he must be deep in there, doing whatever the fuck it is he needs to do. You imagine him somewhere among the ferns and trees and spiders, slumped over, wildlife sniffing at his sweat before leaving him there. It makes your heart ache… but not as badly as your bladder.

Fuck it.

You open the door as quietly as you possibly can, cringing when it creaks a little. It’s eerily quiet as you make your way just into the line of trees, as if anyone’s going to see you. Relief is sharp and instant - you have to hold your breath, holding in that desperate little moan of pleasure as the pain instantly disappears. The finer things in life, right?

Cleaned up and pants zipped, you take a moment to silently step out into the middle of the road. There are so many stars; it’s absolutely breathtaking. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but there’s a special sort of quiet when you stop and really, really look, not worrying about the next step or the next move. It brings you a moment of peace and tranquility. The moon watches you, lit so expressively up - you can make out the hollow eyes, the wide, gaping mouth. The man on the moon, stuck in his eternal howl.

You admire this for a long moment, stuck in the tranquil beauty of it. Soft breeze. Trees waving so gently in it, speaking their own secret language through the fluttering leaves and swaying branches. There’s an intoxicating feeling of knowing the universe, being one tiny thing surrounded by an endless expanse of other tiny things, thrumming on one of a billion vibrational wavelengths to create the larger fabric. 

There’s a tiny rustle off to the side and, expecting to see a deer, or maybe some raccoons, you’re absolutely floored to see a man.

Not a man - Joel. He’s nude, his flushed, strong body glistening with sweat. He’s covered in it, shining like some horrible beacon in the middle of the grass, and even from this distance you can see his chest heaving. The shock that paralyzes you to the spot is followed by abject fear, eyes wide and mouth open. Of all the things you’ve seen, of all the horrible situations you’ve encountered together, this is the most fear you have ever felt in your life. It rushes up into your head like static, making a home there like so much white noise as your blood roars in your ears. 

He takes a few steps forward and you tremble there, hearing his ragged breath as he gets closer. His - oh, god. His cock is hard, pulsing, heavy as it bounces with each forward step he takes. He takes a ragged breath and almost looks like he’s glaring at you, face contorted in some awful mix of agony and anger, something… something else too horrible to name. 

“Tol’ ya,” he slurs, voice slow. He licks his lips, moaning, his cock twitching. “Tol’ ya t’stay in the fuckin’ truck, didn’t I?”

That’s enough. He comes within a couple yards and the fear overtakes you in a way that makes your limbs tremble with adrenaline, your breaths coming in hitched, desperate gasps as you pound pavement. Pavement gives way to dirt and brambles and rocks, running blindly into the woods.

Should have locked yourself back in the truck.

Reason leaves you in a hot rush, replaced only with the hot, throbbing fear of a prey creature, and to your growing horror you hear his footsteps behind you somewhere. Running after you. You don’t dare glance back, ignoring the urge to - you can’t afford to fall. You just have to keep going. 

It hurts - there’s a stitch forming in your ribs, a sharp ache as your muscles scream at you to slow down, to stop, to take a proper breath. No time. There’s nothing in the banner of your mind except RUN RUN RUN KEEP FUCKING RUNNING, ESCAPE, HIDE HIDE HIDE.

Eventually, the manic rush of adrenaline wears down enough that your body can’t keep running. You tuck behind the thick length of a tree in all that dark, slumping down to sit as you cover your mouth with both hands. It’s hard to breathe softly - it’s fucking near impossible, so you do what you can, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Isn’t that the thing? Fuck, who cares. As long as you can draw the breath slowly, as quietly as you can. The birds are quiet. Sleeping. There’s only the natural sounds of the woods, the random shivers of wind and breaking branches, a rustle here and there. It’s so fucking quiet. You can’t hear Joel anymore - the paranoid thought that he’s near enters your mind with every random snap or break or crunch in the woods, but he’s so big, so powerful and… so rabid right now. So unlike himself. You’d know, right…? Your heart beats in your chest, the rhythm so quick, so uneven. You can hear it in this weird silence, along with the gasping little breaths you take. Trying to be so slow and quiet is hard when your chest aches like this, when every single fiber of your being is begging you to keep running, to rush, to protect yourself. You close your eyes and drop your head slowly back against the trunk of this tree, trying to trick your body into calming down. 

Time is weird. It feels like minutes crawl by in the relative silence, and your body gets used to each little sound of the forest. You find yourself relaxing as much as you can given your situation - heart rate going down, finding it easier to breathe. That awful stitch in your ribs finally eases up, your eyes get used to the stark darkness. It almost feels like whatever happened was a fever dream of your own. Joel would never - he… he wouldn’t. 

You think back quietly, the eyes in the back of your brain roving over the image of him in the field, walking toward you, shining with sweat. Utterly naked and hard. The sight of him throbbing like that, being so shocked you could see the twitch of his cock, even from that distance, just by the light of the moon. His expression - and in your mind’s eye, it doesn’t look as feral. It looks helpless, it looks… hungry, yes, but… desperate. 

“You - mmmh, I -”

The sudden voice makes you scream into all that cloying darkness, heart stopping in your immediate, panicky fear, and that scream closes up into an awful sound from your choked throat. All those muscles tighten up and it’s almost like a terrible little whistle as he grabs you, shoving you back down into the dirt, the leaves and grass and ferns.

“Told you. Told you, darlin’, fuckin’…. oh, fuck, I told you, I told you to s-stay… stay ‘way from me,” he moans, and it’s almost like he’s begging as you make his face out in the dim, still so sweaty, his eyes practically glowing. He looks just the same as before, like he’s a slave to…. to the - what did he call it, again? The moon fever. Fuck. He groans and grinds his hips between your thighs, terrifyingly hard as he fits himself there by force, holding your wrists down in his bruising grip, gasping his breaths. A drop of his sweat slides down his forehead and patters over your face, on your cheek. “Shouldn’t’ve - why… why’d you run?”

He moans as he leans down and buries his nose into the nape of your neck, skimming it up your throat. It’s followed by his tongue - he smells you, tastes you, the sound he makes so tortured and erotic it makes you shudder underneath him. 

“Joel - Joel,” you whimper. “You’re not - it’s just me, it’s me, it’s - why are you -”

“Mmm, I know, honey, I - oh, I know, I know, I’m ssooo s—so fuckin’ sorry,” he says. He bites into your shoulder and there it is, his hard cock rutting between your thighs. You scramble to back away, to escape it, but he puts his big, strong hands on your hips and yanks you violently back underneath him, working at forcing your bottoms off. “M’sorry. Sorry, baby, I - ohhh, I’m… ohh yeah, I’m… sorry…-”

Kicking does nothing. He’s so fucking strong, and before you know it, he’s moaning against your collarbone, shoving his rough, thick fingers into your cunt. He works them in, his tongue on your skin, rubbing and searching until he discovers the pillowy little spot that makes you clench. You’re near tears at this point, useless in your struggle, shaking underneath him while he sucks little marks into your skin. 

“All fuckin’ wet for me,” he groans. “C’n smell ya - that’s how I found you, honey. Could smell ya anywhere, your wet little pussy. So pretty, so fuckin’… wet… tight… mine.” Each word punctuated by the brutal thrust of his fingers, stretching you just a little bit, just enough that it feels too rough, too painful.

His lips pull away from your skin with a wet pop, the scrape of his teeth making you whine. He grabs your hips and ducks down, his shoulders undulating like a creature’s as he settles his scratchy face between your thighs. He buries his mouth against your cunt, licking, moaning. He devours you there even though you’re whining for him to stop, to let you go.

Those words melt off - all your “Joel please fucking don’t Joel please Joel you can’t you can’t”s turn slowly into a mantra of his name, over and other til you’re breathy and moaning with him. When did that happen? When did you stop struggling and start threading your fingers into his graying hair, gripping it, hips twitching under his hands as he rubs the pads of his thumbs into your willing flesh? 

Sooner than you might think, you’re starting to scream - it feels like he’s making you come apart cell by cell, atom by atom, that horrible heat winding down your guts and into your pelvis until it grows too big to hold inside of yourself. His desperate, mindless lapping, his hands making bruises into the meat of your thighs. It’s too much - you have tears in your eyes and then it’s like you’re (howling) shrieking into that black, dark night, pulsing down hard on his beckoning fingers.

“Hurts,” you sob. “Hurts, hurts…”

“I know. I know, honey, I fuckin’ know. Just gotta - mmmm, gotta be brave, j’st - lemme -”

Wait - be… brave? What - what does that fucking mean? Panic blooms into your chest as your climax starts to fizzle out, all that heavy breathing turning into the same panicked, high-pitched, whining kind of gasping you’ve been doing since you saw him in that fucking field. Joel pulls you toward him, grunting, naked from the waist down with your shirt rucking up as he drags you. God, he’s drooling, making the most terrible, longing sounds from deep in his chest as he grabs you and forces you around to your belly, hauling your hips up into the air for him.

“Joel - no, no,” you say, and to your horror, you just can’t be loud enough. Everything else is louder - the scrape of the forest floor under your hands as he forces you into the position he wants, his labored breaths, growling, like the effort of it is breaking him apart, too. Maybe it is. It makes everything worse, one of his big hands creeping up the front of your shirt to paw at your tits, rutting his cock between your thighs. God, it’s so hot against your slippery folds, his calloused fingers too rough on your nipples. 

He seems to envelop you as he reaches back to notch the fat, leaking tip of his cock against your hole. He rocks his hips in this barely controlled rhythm, working himself deeper and deeper and god, he’s big. Thick, stretching you open in his manic sort of thrusting, and your stomach lurches as you realize that he’s trying to be gentle. He’s barely hanging on to himself. He moans and gasps as he fucks your pussy open, and once he’s fully seated, the pain really comes. He rears back and slams it home, again, again, heavy balls against your clit with each pass.

“Fuck - oh, fuck, darlin’, so… goddamn tight…” Joel nuzzles his nose down against your shoulder blade and inhales your scent, the sound he makes so nakedly erotic it makes you clench around him again. He grunts and pauses for a moment before resuming his pace, pounding into you, the hand up your shirt reaching further to hold you by the throat. “Y’mine, you know that? Only mine. M’gunna make sure you - fuck. Oh, fuck. Gunna give you all of me.”

Joel reaches his other hand between your thighs, and there he is, holding you against him like a hostage. Hand on your throat, his fingers pressed right up against your pulse there, and wouldn’t you fucking know it - his other hand snakes right over your mound, fingers delving between those plump, spread cuntlips to circle your clit. He’s frenzied, but not clumsy - he knows what you like. It’s jarring at first; too much too quickly, his cockhead nudging up against your cervix with each roll of his hips. 

“Needja to cum, honey,” he manages to whisper, and it’s a wonder he can do that at all with all the sounds he makes. “Seen ya do it like this. Mmm? I - ah, f-fuck - I know you’re already gettin’ close. Don’t lie to me, now.”

You make a tortured sound, the pit of your stomach swirling with a special, sick kind of fear. His fingers trace fire into your flesh, willing or not; he’s absolutely fucking right. You’re going to cum on his cock, no matter how much it hurts, how afraid and helpless you are. 

“The - the fuck does that mean, Joel?” you ask desperately. You sound just as angry as you feel. Betrayed. It comes out cracking and pathetic all the same, drawn high and useless as he splits you in half. God, holding your breath doesn’t even help. You’re going to cum - it’s only a matter of time.

“Don’t fuckin’ be like that, “ he growls, his breaths coming ragged. “M’not as stupid as ya think, not - not… ohh, not even close. All those times y’thought I was sleepin’, hmm? Yeah? Whimperin’. Hand down between these thighs… whispering my name, like I’m goddamn deaf. Heard you loud ‘n clear, honey. Y’let me take care of you.”

As if to drive his point home, Joel changes both the angle at which he fucks into you and the rhythm of his fingers, forcing an unexpected gasp from your throat that exhales into a loud, keening wail, so exquisitely erotic that he holds himself flush to your body for a moment, cock throbbing, and it’s those aching little throbs that shove you over the edge along with everything else. True to his word, Joel knows what you need, and he forces you to cum. The pleasure crashes down like a tidal wave, molten and overwhelming enough to white you out behind the eyelids for a moment. It’s incredible. Your body ripples and contracts and squeezes against him, all that hot pink velvet flesh wrapped around his thick cock, and he kisses along your back where he’s shoved your shirt nearly off your body. His lips trace patterns of fire over your exposed skin, wet, open-mouthed kisses between your shoulders. 

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is more of a rumble against you as opposed to a voice; so low, deep, rabid. Curses fall from those lips like a font, and there it is - he’s so engorged it hurts, and it must be the combination of your overlapping climaxes. It’s almost painful, and then it keeps going. The stretch, the feeling of him expanding impossibly inside of you as he pumps jet after jet of his seed inside, hips twitching, holding you close as he humps forward. 

“Joel - fuck, it - it fucking hurts, please…”

“I know. I know, I know, I know, just… hold on, babydoll, let me…” he trails off, dragging his tongue up your spine as he moans. “Don’t move. Don’t you move. Be so still f’me.”

The pressure in your cunt reaches a point that is actually painful, too filled, and a new sort of fear fills you as you struggle with it. Joel keeps… expanding, his cock getting thicker, thicker, stretching you so that it burns. 

“Joel, I can’t,” you gasp, trying to pull away. He keeps his hands firm on your hips, groaning and yanking you back so you remain flush against his body, his hips rocking so softly. ”Why does it - fuck, it fucking hurts, it hurts!”

“Few minutes,” he grinds out, holding his breath just as much as you are. “Just a few minutes. Stay still. I mean it. Gunna hurt us both if you keep fuckin’ squirmin’ like that. It’s gotta take.”

“It’s gotta —” Your mind races in that moment, with the pain of his enormous cock, the way it just seems to get bigger and the way you want to pull away from it even though it hurts so fucking badly to try. “Take? Joel, what - what does that mean?”

Joel shushes you, his scratchy facial hair, his lips on your hot, sweaty skin, and he licks you, he tastes the salt of your body and moans, one hand fixed firmly on your hip. There’s going to be bruises there, later, proof of his strength, his utter control of you in this moment. You shake underneath him and make the worst little noises, somewhere between a sob and a whimper. Like a kicked dog. You just want it to stop. 

“Y’know what it means, darlin’. Almost done. Fuck… y’so tight, baby. How you been keepin’ this from me all along, huh?” Joel hums and you can feel it against your body, the low rumble of it like a living force as it finds a home in your ribcage, all the way down from where your back meets his chest to where his cock is still buried immovably tight in your cunt. All his cum caught inside, sealed… taking. He seems so calm now, so drained. Like he got all the poison out. “Mmmh - there we go. There we fuckin’ go.”

His cock seems to finally soften, finally releasing all that pent-up pressure, the pain, the aching stretch. Both of you make these little sounds of relief as you can ease the physical tension and he’s finally able to slip out of your body. Your first instinct is to keel over and roll to your back, sticks and stones and dirt be damned. You pant there, legs spread, and Joel looks… like Joel. He’s still sweaty and still very, very naked, but he doesn’t look scary anymore. He looks like him, his brow pinched in his way as he looks down at you. There’s a secret sort of sorrow in his expression, and despite it all, your only impulse is to reach up and take his scruffy face in your hands. You manage to coax him down and kiss him on the lips - surprisingly soft, yielding. He moans a little, but it’s less sensual and more longing. Like he’s wanted this part all along. Wanted your gentle warmth, your comfort. Your brush your thumbs over his cheekbones as you kiss him like that, chaste, no tongue. Just tenderness. You rub the pad of one thumb over those worry lines between his brows, down over the bridge of his nose as you kiss. 

Joel reaches down to gently push his fingers inside of you. You’re sopping, dripping with his cum, your poor little cunt all sore and wet and aching from all of that. 

“M’sorry, babygirl,” he murmurs against your lips. “Didn’t wanna hurt ya. Swear.”

There’s a little stretch of silence as you kiss and he slowly, lovingly fucks his cum deeper into your body with his fingers. He’s so gentle - there’s no real goal, no end point. Just Joel, just his rough, thick fingers being as kind as they can be inside your sensitive body. Just the two of you. The sweat starts making you cold and Joel pulls away, helping you brush off and work your clothes back into place as you awkwardly make your way back to the truck to sleep. He’s got a blanket in there, and on the way to the vehicle, you catch him glaring at the moon. He looks beautiful, even in all his exhausted anger. The lines in his face. The drawn, tired eyes. His chest, his body. Everything about him is beautiful - does he even know that? You don’t have the heart to tell him. Not now.

For now, all that exists is his big, warm body, the nook you settle in where he wraps his strong arm around you so you can lie on his chest in the bed of the truck, covered in a couple blankets, listening to the insects start up again. The big, fat moon now has a sliver of dark on its edge.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Alien Escape

Male Alien Yandere × Gender Neutral Reader

(CW: Noncon, oviposition, breeding, overstimulation, crying, fear, minor character death, weird alien dick, minor mentions of medical experimentation (NOT on reader), alien, implied abduction, general yandere behavior)

Word Count: 680

(Just something I typed up on my phone because it was in my head and demanded to be written, a nice little mini-fic. Hope you enjoy!)

Tears streamed down your face, and your legs burned and ached from running so fast through the labyrinthine halls. Your frenzied footsteps on the cold tile floor were completely drowned out by the incessant blaring of the alarms.

When you slipped and broke the containment field, you had doomed everyone.

At last, you had made it to the exit. But it was covered by a heavier metal door with no handle.

Of course. The entire site was on lockdown now.

Maybe you could double back and hide in one of the abandoned rooms. If they weren't sealed off by now, too.

You ran off down a side corridor, but it was a dead end. Maybe it wouldn't come this way since it wasn't the way out.

Suddenly, the alarms and all the lights turned off. Probably sucked dry due to the escaped alien's ability to absorb energy.

You huddled into a corner in the darkness, nothing visible.

Then you saw light. Coming from far down the hall. The pale sickly green glow of the alien slowly approaching.

When he entered your field of view fully you gasped. He had a struggling Colonel Hughs in his arms, a hand over his mouth.

The alien slowly walked towards you and as he did so, he impaled Hughs with a spike that protruded from his wrists causing the colonel to rapidly age before turning to dust.

The alien had absorbed his life force.

It was humanoid, but had no eyes, nose, or mouth. Scars from "research" littered his body. Its wrist spike retracted back into itself as it slowly stepped towards you.

His strange ribbed cock poking out of his genital slit and lengthening as he approached.

It looked slimy and writhed as if with a will of its own. All while glowing with the same green light the rest of his body did.

You cowered and sobbed. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die.

And you weren't going to.

The alien had no intention to hurt you. He wanted you to be his incubator.

Out of all the people in the facility you were the only one he sensed any sympathy from. And no ill will. He only sensed regret and anxiety whenever your gaze landed on him.

It was the only modicum of kindness he experienced while being captured, contained, and experimented on.

He clung to it, focused on it. It was a lifeline for him.

And when you broke the containment unit he was housed in, he was convinced you had been purposefully trying to free him.

As he loomed over you, he could sense your fear. He gently wiped your tears away with his prehensile cock before pulling you up, turning you around, and pulling your pants down.

Yes~

This would do perfectly as a receptacle for his egg.

You begged and babbled, sure that he was about to turn you into dust.

When his slimy dick worked its way into you the noises you were making progressed into screams.

He put his hands carefully on your fragile human hips as his priggle writhed all around inside you, causing you to squirm and moan involuntarily in pleasure.

If he had a mouth your alien mate would have cooed at that sound.

The alien's dick molded itself to your inside perfectly, to kiss every little fold of your intimate depths, leaking viscous goo as it did so.

After your tenth forced orgasm from your otherworldly lover your legs finally gave out and he had to hold you close as he pumped one final time into you.

He deposited a large egg inside causing your tummy to bulge out, quite beautifully in his opinion.

The creature put his hand on your head and used his abilities to make you fell into a well earned sleep.

Green slime leaked from your entrance and down your legs when he pulled out of you.

It was a good thing you were a janitor, because once he had you back on his home world you'd be dealing with this mess daily.

[revelboo]

May we have an update on Brainstorm? I’ve always headcannoned him as sounding like Kuzco from emperors new groove. He just has that energy.

*wheezing* oh, no… no, no, no I can hear it and now I can’t stop hearing it- like Whirl sounding like Deadpool… why would you do that to me? 🤣

My Way Pt 4

Brainstorm x Reader

• Glancing at where you’d perched yourself on a low bin of parts, he finds you just staring uncomfortably at him. You’ve been at it for long enough his plating is crawling. It’s not that he wants to talk to you, but the silence is starting to weird him out. Just staring at his face, legs folded up under you and hands on your knees. Oh. Digging your blunt little nails into yourself. “If you’re about to have a freak out, I’m putting you back on the floor. Last thing I need is you flinging yourself off my desk. Understand?”

• Startling out of your thoughts, you stare at him and try to decide how serious he is about it. But he’s talking at least. Aside from giving you his name and fetching food and water in little dishes like he thinks you’re a pet, he’d started working on what seems to be schematics. In silence. Like he’d forgotten you were even there. “When can I go home?” You ask, eyes drifting away from him to study the walls, avoiding the window. Viewport. Whatever it is embedded in one wall that shows a stunning vista of the stars. Driving home that you’re on an alien spaceship far from home.

• Tapping his stylus against his datapad before dancing it over his servos and using the end to point at you, he falters when you flinch and lean away. Skittish little thing. “So, here’s the thing. This ship isn’t anywhere near your world. It’s headed in the opposite direction, in fact,” he says and your expression empties before your little face scrunches up. Oh, that’s an ugly expression.

• Horrified as he starts twirling his stylus over his servos again like hadn’t just said that you’re hurtling away from Earth, you stare at him. And he didn’t really answer you, but the implied answer you’d gotten from his tone is that you’re not going home. Ever. Leaning, you seize a bit of metal big as your fist out of the bin and chuck it at him. Don’t even come close to hitting him, but you’re reaching to grab another part anyway. “I need to go home! You abducted me, put me back!” Screaming as to your horror, tears start spilling down your cheeks, and he’s just staring at you.

• Did you just break? Screaming and throwing things at him. Throwing his things at him. “I didn’t abduct you.” Not intentionally anyway. Doubts that fact will make you feel better, though. Has no idea how to deal with a human throwing a really sad tantrum, but venting, he reaches for you and you’re scrambling down from your perch, little feet noisy when you run to the far end of the desk and realize there’s nowhere to go. Face a splotchy red and eyes leaking, you round on him and Primus, you’re ugly right now. Has no idea what you’re thinking. “What? You’re going to jump just to spite me? If you want to spite me, live. Make me have to put up with you.” Besides, if you do manage to offline yourself under his care, Magnus will probably assume he pushed you. Isn’t the least bit interested in being confined to quarters, he has too many plans he needs his freedom for. Which means talking you down. Playing nice with you.

Previous

[gt-daboss]

Hear Me Out: Reverse GT Alien Abduction.

We are the invaders. Humanity has long since fantasized about hordes of unknown, giant flying monstrosities raining down from the heavens onto our small blue orb in the lonely universe. Huddling In secret in the recesses of our homes as fellow humans are abducted to who knows where, never to be seen again. Families torn apart and for what reason? Don't they know we are people too?

only...

That's the exact role humanity plays, no- not as the victims, but as the oppressors. All throughout the galaxy known for their greed and insatiable curiosity, their ever-hungering thirst for knowledge and the unknown, trampling over any and all species that sought to slow them down.

So, when Humanity found a planet with creatures who looked nearly identical to their own, but at a fraction of the size and power...

their fate was inevitable.

hooof, i might make a part 2 at some point soon! you guys know i can't let a cruel scenario not have a happy ending xD

if anybody thinks the lighting looks weird- its supposed to imply someone opened up a door to go into this 'pet' shop and light is shining in. (metaphorical/literal ray of hope, maybe this human will be nice lol~)

[muletia]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 — [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐] ⊹₊⟡⋆

[tfp] yandere!soundwave x human!reader

summary: over time, you stopped screaming, stopped struggling. as it turns out, it has its benefits.

cw: yandere, kidnapping, isolation, reader's pov, implied stockholm syndrome, silliness

word count: 925

[part 1] / [part 3]

Goliath returned, ending your loneliness. You smile at the sight of him, more out of habit, automatically than from genuine joy. It was a game, a performance. And you played the lead role. Besides, you already knew well that your alien liked it when you showed happiness, no matter the form.

You wave at him, not particularly interested in his usual actions, which, in most cases, followed the same pattern. Your eyes return to the movie you’re watching. Soon, he’ll ask you, without words, what you’re currently doing, and you’ll have to give a detailed explanation of the book you’re reading or the movie you’re watching. Then, he’ll start working, typing unfamiliar symbols and letters on the keyboard, standing in the same spot, in the same position, for hours on end, occasionally asking your opinion on something—because he liked listening to you. A routine you had grown very familiar with.

But today is different. The titan carries something unusual in his hand, something that breaks the routine. He places the item on the desk, right in front of you, finally earning your attention. Oh?

You put your tablet aside and wriggle out from under the warm blanket. The robot has brought you a large cardboard box, filled to the brim with a random assortment of items. It’s been a while since he last gave you something for “good behavior,” but you’re not about to complain. The more little things that made your life feel normal, the better—even if longing choked you now and then. It was nice to have human things in a world where nothing was human. It was nice to pretend your life was normal.

The box’s contents are chaotic and uncoordinated, and digging through it doesn’t improve the impression. A mushroom-shaped desk lamp, a black pillow, a deck of cards, two pairs of pants two sizes too big, a pack of bottled water, and a stack of instant noodle packets… Somewhere in there, you even spot an iron and a copy of Stardew Valley for a console you didn’t own. You wonder where he could have gotten such random items, but robbing a delivery truck probably wouldn’t have posed much of a challenge for him—nor would breaking into a parcel locker.

“Thanks for everything.” Because trying to explain the moral implications of stealing to the robot who abducted you would definitely be a very fruitful discussion.

A smiling emoji appears on his screen. At this point, he should leave you alone and get back to work, but he doesn’t. Once again, he breaks the routine. He stands stiffly in the same spot, tilting his helmet toward you. Watching. Was he curious about how you’d use his gifts? You could gladly show him—if most of them weren’t useless to you. Worse still, you couldn’t tell him that, too afraid of risking his anger and losing the privileges you already had. Besides—Christ—you hated yourself for thinking this way, but his efforts were endearing and came from good intentions. You couldn’t bring yourself to explain that no, you had no use for an iron in your current circumstances, and next time, he should bring you something practical.

You were probably starting to lose it. And the titan was still waiting.

Eventually, you decide to pull out the deck of cards and quickly open it. Aside from the food and water, it’s probably the most useful item in the box since at least you could think of an immediate use for it. Sitting cross-legged on the cold surface, you shiver slightly, missing your warm nest, but keep fiddling with the cards, determined to please your silent observer. Engrossed in the activity, you don’t notice when something moves toward you, silent and quick. It’s only when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye that you snap back to reality.

The robot has extended one of his tentacles, wrapping it behind your back, cutting you off from your little corner. For a moment, you’re terrified. What was he planning? Was he going to lift you? Crush you? He was finally tired of you, wasn’t he? Your fears are quickly dispelled, however, as the tentacle merely curls around you, resting against your back. And it’s warm. So very warm. You don’t even try to resist, leaning into the warm metal, though you know full well he could have just handed you one of your blankets.

“Thank you,” you smile, and the screen now shows a heart emoji. “Hey, have you ever seen a magic trick?”

It’s a silly question, one you should never ask a giant, highly advanced alien. But if he wanted to actively participate in your day so badly, he’d have to give you an answer. Besides, if his feelings toward you hadn’t changed, maybe he’d actually care.

He shakes his head, and you smile. Because it’s silly and insane, because all of this is a farce, because you sincerely want to impress him. Because this silent robot is slowly planting roots in your heart, even though you built walls around it long ago.

“Great! Pick a card.”

You can’t tell if the trick impresses him. Maybe he figured out your technique immediately, maybe he was more focused on the interaction itself, or maybe he thought it was stupid. His thoughts and feelings were inaccessible to you, locked behind silence. But when he points at the cards, clearly asking you for more, you allow yourself to forget your situation and who you’re dealing with—for just one moment letting his warmth seep into your heart.

[kbthebearcat]

This is another comic that was sitting around for a long time that I finally got around to finishing up. I have been picking away at this gradually for like, two years? 😅 Or at least a a year and a half? Idk… but it was sitting for a long time is all I know.

I’m not very experienced with compositing comics so that was one of the reasons, and I also didn’t really know where I wanted this comic to go at first. Like, I had the general idea that Troy was trying to hide the fact that had the little alien kid with him, but I didn’t really know how I wanted the dialog to go and how I wanted it to end. But just today I managed to conclude it and be satisfied enough with it. The backgrounds are inconsistent and kinda weird though. They’re supposed to be in Adam’s home office room, buuuut… I kinda gave up on making the environment look good. 🥲

This kind of turned out to be a continuation of this drawing I did a while ago. I thought that maybe the two met at school, the little alien kid was a new student, and the two of them hit it off well. So of course that means Troy can just abduct the child and take him home with him. 😂 

Fortunately Adam is astute enough to realize something is up, plus he just knows his son, and as it’s implied in the comic, this isn’t Troy’s first time doing this…. He was a bit of a rascal as a kid. He just likes making new friends and doesn’t want to part. Though if he just asked if the kid could stay over, then they probably would have said yes haha.

[gunpowder-gemini]

Hi I have many many thoughts on Dandadan and where specific characters are going in the story, so incoming ramble posts lol. I've got thoughts on Okarun, Turbo Granny and Kinta specifically.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA THROUGH CH. 175

First up: Okarun!

So obviously he's lost his turbo granny powers bc he's a good boy who keeps promises, but him having yokai curse powers is like, half the concept of the manga right? (The other half being Momo getting powers due to alien abduction). So clearly, he's gonna get them back because we can't just have one of our two main characters permanently sidelined. The question is just HOW.

I'm pretty sure Turbo Granny is gonna come back, she's a major supporting character and she had a whole little montage panel of Reasons To Stay despite her saying she has none but I'll get into that in a different post lol. HOWEVER! I don't think she's gonna give Okarun her powers again. I mean, they're HERS. And she just spent all that time getting them back why would she give them away again? So Okarun can fight? She can use her powers way better than he can, so if they're needed SHE'LL use them.

I think Okarun is gonna develop his own spiritual powers like Momo's.

In the recent chapters it's gone out of the way to highlight how ridiculously fit Okarun is now. Like, SUPER fit. Most obviously in the fitness tests, where he blew everyone out of the water:

But also in the fight against the pygmies he easily kept up with Aira, who was in her yokai form at the time.

Which I mean, it makes sense that he got fit - he's been fighting for his life as an after-school hobby lol. Obviously continually training to handle Turbo Granny's powers AND fighting things would result in him getting incredibly fit. But they've like REALLY emphasized it these past few chapters. It feels like they're really calling attention to it, you know?

But that in and of itself isn't the real reason I suspect he's got his own spiritual powers. It's actually because he can enter Empty Space.

So per the Serpoians, Empty Space is something aliens create that only pulls in humans with high spiritual power so the aliens can capture and study them. It's why once Aira got her acro silky powers she could enter Empty Space.

Okarun's high spiritual power wasn't his, it was Turbo Granny's. He was able to enter Empty Space because he had her power, but without it he's just a normal kid. So once he gave it back he should be unable to enter Empty Space. And yet:

He's gets pulled into Empty Space to fight the pygmies. He himself calls that out as strange! He shouldn't be able to! He doesn't have Granny's power! But there he is! So he must still have high spiritual power!

I think he spent such a long time with Turbo Granny's full power inside him, utilizing it so frequently, that it changed him. Either it awakened latent spiritual power within him or left behind an imprint of itself, I'm not sure lol. But I think he's developed his own version of Turbo Granny's power. I think it'll be a bit different from her, but still similar (I don't think they're gonna give him a completely different power ya know?). I suspect it'll come with a cool form change to his yokai form, like a costume upgrade lmao.

Furthermore, I think this happened because of the Danmanra arc. During that arc, in the final fight against the Fairy-Tale card, Okarun went all out three times.

He's never been able to do that - it's been kinda implied it would kill him. But through the ~power of love~ he managed to pull it off, and I think it is going to have an effect/consequences. I think this moment here changed him in some way, and it might be the catalyst for him developing his own version of Turbo Granny's powers.

Further to that point is Count Saint-Germain. He cornered Okarun, got him to yield and clearly intended to take his powers, but didn't.

I suspect it's because he wanted Turbo Granny's powers, but Okarun no longer has them. I think he either doesn't know Okarun has his own powers, or he does know and is waiting for Okarun to properly awaken them before he takes them. I'm like 90% sure the Empty Space in the pygmy fight was caused by him. Empty Space is pretty clearly outlined to be an Alien Thing and while the pygmies are spirits/yokai/whatever, Count Saint-Germain is probably an alien given his affiliation with the Kur. AND he was the one who gave Keiko the knife and the mission to steal Momo's power. Since Okarun got pulled into that Empty Space, if pretty boy here didn't know Okarun has some hidden spiritual power, he sure does now.

Either way, Okarun yielding to him here is definitely a Chekov's gun that's gotta fire at some point, and I've got theories on that but I'm gonna save them for my post on Turbo Granny lol.

Anyway TLDR; I think Okarun has his own superpowers like Momo now and we're gonna see them awaken in this arc.

Thanks for reading!

[covetyou]

please impregnate dieter

ok bye 💜👽🛸

fine 👽🛸 beam him up, boys.

propagation

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!alien rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub/non-con (because alien abduction), alien impregnation, implied mpreg, anal sex (including rimming and fingering), tentacle (just one), belly bulge, alien gender includes humanoid alien ladies with shapeshifting tentacle dicks, spaceship bondage, light mind control. word count: 2.8k summary: He always knew their existence to be fact, but Dieter Bravo never considered their continued existence would one day rely on him.

A/N: seeded left me with too many thots, so I accidentally stayed up until 4am writing this, and finished it this morning, thanks to this comment of yours. I hope you're happy. I have very thoroughly impregnanted That Man™, with his own hypervirile sperm.

And for anyone curious, he was beamed up into the spaceship like a Sim.

tagging a few unfortunate people who have expressed interest in my little weirdo:

@sp00kymulderr @umnitsa @missredherring @thereaperisabitch @magpiepills

@pedge-page @max--phillips

Dieter has no clue how long he's been here. It could be minutes, it could be weeks. Time stopped meaning much of anything pretty quickly - that's how it goes when you're trussed up in a windowless room, strapped up by some extraterrestrial technology the likes of which he hadn't even seen imagined on the most bizarre of movie sets.

Logically, he knows he should be afraid. If there's one thing Dieter Bravo knows, it's to fear the unknown. But, some part deep inside him knew this to always be true. These things that have him existed long before he did and would go on to exist long after him too. Even deeper down he knows that what they're doing to him right now is to ensure that continued existence.

There's no other reason he can think of for being in a position like this.

Or stripped entirely naked.

And nothing else will quite explain the contraption currently strapped to his cock.

No amount of wiggling will dislodge it, and between the way his arms are strapped up and the way his hips are hoisted high in the air, his head left to dangle as it pleases, he doesn't think it's coming off anytime soon. It's a good thing he kind of likes it, even if it does make him feel a bit like a dairy cow.

In the minutes, hours, days, since he's been here, not a single soul has bothered to come in to see him. He didn't know if this damn tube that was pumping him was even okay to piss into, or where his next meal would come from. Realistically, he hadn't thought that he'd die here - it didn't feel like that kind of thing. Still, the fact remained that he hadn't seen a single living thing since the light took him and the floating feeling took over his body.

It was a floaty feeling, thanks to the position he's been kept in, that hasn't quite left him. Between that and his cock being relentlessly pumped without reprieve or release, he's starting to feel desperately lonely here, floating through space or wherever here is.

No sooner does he think it, when there's a hiss of mechanical doors behind him. Dieter opens his eyes - he'd closed them some time ago - and there she is, stalking towards him on two long legs, talking to him in a tongue he's never heard.

It's an unnatural voice. Somehow too high, and too low, and lilting, and rumbling all at once. It's the voice of a dream, one he's had before, except this time it's so very real. It wraps itself around him and lodges into his bones, vibrating sound through to his core until he's gasping and suddenly understanding everything.

This is a processing chamber. He is to be processed, bred, and released.

The newfound knowledge isn't exactly a relief, but he supposes the machine trying to milk his cock without letting him come just yet makes sense. The longer he teased himself, the more he had to give, and it seemed these lifeforms already knew that too.

She purrs, dark eyes bright and curious, and it sends a jolt to his cock, twitching and swelling in the grip of the machine. If he wasn't sure about coming before, now he's certain. He doesn't care who, or what they are. He just wants to burst, to give them every last drop he has, and to make a show of it for the alien thing standing behind him. She's beautiful. Her skin practically glitters, shimmers holographic, translucent, full of sunbeams and starlight. Her eyes trace him, examining every inch, before settling between his legs where his engorged cock hangs and his balls draw up in a desperate attempt to come.

But the machine still keeps him on the cusp of losing it.

Even when one elongated finger reaches out to stroke him, tracing down the seam of his sack, he can't come, and that's when he realizes it's her doing.

"Please. You can have it. All of it. Just please..." his voice sounds thick and just about as alien to his ears as hers did, but he knows she understands him.

He knows, because with a blip and a soft whine, he's being maneuvered in his restraints by some unseen force. With legs spread wider, and his shoulders pulled back, that ethereal voice hums through him again.

...Ready for processing...

It's her. Dieter can see her out of the corner of his eye as he twists in his restraints. But she's changed. Sort of.

She still looks effervescent - her skin shifting and fizzing under his gaze - but so much about her has expanded and grown. Her fingers have gotten longer, wider, the tips practically glowing with each throb of blood through her veins. She seems taller too, and broader, rounder, but he's struggling to work out what's a trick of the too-bright light and what's real. Fuck, everything feels so real.

Most of all what Dieter notices, and can't take his eyes off, is the swelling appendage between her legs that definitely wasn't there a moment ago. He'd almost mistake it for a cock, if it wasn't for the way it moved and writhed, as if a limb all on its own.

He should be scared. He knows he should. But he knows that all that's between him and coming is being processed, and he's quite liking the look of what that means.

Another tingle ripples through him, just as the cool weight of her drops down behind him.

...Commence lubrication...

Something slippery and long slides along his ass. It slips between his cheeks, wet and slick as it glides across his puckered hole, leaving trails across his skin. Dieter can't help the groan that leaves him. If this is lubrication, he can't wait for what comes next.

And then it slides inside, the slender tip breaching his asshole for a moment, feeling wetter than any tongue he's ever had there before. He can't help but twitch in his restraints, his legs trying desperately to give him momentum to rut into the air, to give him more friction so he can just come already.

Instead, he's held still by long fingers with too many knuckles. Fingers so long they wrap around his entire thigh, anchoring him in place. He's totally at the mercy if her and her tongue - because that's definitely what it is, even if the feeling of it swirling around his rim is more than a little different to the human tongues he was used to.

It probes into him deeper, and he groans in his restraints. The machine on his cock has stopped it's sucking, but it hasn't given up it's grip. He can't bust even if he wanted to, and he's starting to think she's never going to let him come.

He can feel it. The tongue slipping deeper, her mouth meeting the skin of his asshole, and the slick rush of liquid as it pours into his hole.

He's begging. He can hear it distantly coming from his own mouth, before the soft lullaby of her voice rings in his head and turns his bones to jelly.

But then she's gone. Her mouth unlatching from his ass, the tongue slipping from his hole, and the fizz of knowing is back in his head.

...Lubrication complete...

There's so much of it he can feel it dribble and bubble out of him, leaving gloopy trails down his thighs as he shudders in the bindings keeping him hoisted high.

He can see pools of it on the floor beneath him too, and more dripping in oily globs out of him as he shudders. No lube, or saliva, he's ever experienced is like this. Nothing has ever pumped so deep and felt so good.

...Commence dilation...

Fear.

Fear because he knows those words, but doesn't know what it means for him here and now, with his ass so he exposed to her and his cock at the mercy of the machine. Dieter tries in vain to move, to tuck his ass under so he's a little less exposed.

But it's no use.

The long fingers find his thighs again, and that voice echoes through his head, bringing him to calm as the tip of one throbbing finger strokes against the slick of his hole.

When it pushes in, the stretch feels no different to the toys he's used on his own ass, or the many people he's had fuck him before. It feels good. Incredible even. Each slight fuck of the finger into him coinciding with a deep throb in his asshole.

The bulbous tip of her finger pops in and out of him, drawing more moans out of him as his rim is stretched around the appendage.

When the thinks dilation isn't too bad, her other hand creeps up to his ass, pulling him apart and holding him open.

The stretch is deeper like this. And he's nodding his head, spurring her on to finger his ass more, to go deeper and curl just the way he loves until she's milking his prostate. He knows he can come like that. He doesn't need anything on his cock, he just needs some well practiced fingers in his ass, and he has a feeling this creature is extremely well practiced at this.

Deeper doesn't come, but the stretch does. It's the stretch of another of her thick tipped fingers being pushed into his hole. And when that pops past the resistance of his asshole, he yelps, his chin wobbling in a feeble sob. Dieter can't help but gyrate his hips. He's so desperate for more he's willing to risk those fingers pulling out and holding him in place.

Except they don't.

She lets him rut this time. He can feel the pleasant approval from her in his mind as he rocks himself in the air, fucking her fingers as deep as his shallow movements will allow.

Even when the fingers tug at him in opposite directions, he doesn't stop rocking. He feels so full and stretched, that he barely registers a third finger joining the others until it's too late.

He almost panics. Almost, because he's fairly certain at that same moment she tells him to calm, to relax, and he does. The tense muscles in his asshole give in to the fingers and let them in, all three fucking into him and stretching him beyond anything he's had before. Even a fourth, and final, finger doesn't draw response from him beyond a whimper and a sob, his hips still doing whatever they can to get the digits deeper.

...Dilation complete...

And then they're gone.

And he feels so empty.

"Please. Please you can't. Don't leave me like this, please. You've got to - I need to - please. Anything. I'll do anything."

Dieter knows he's babbling. Knows she might not even understand a word he's saying, mess that he is. But he doesn't care. He's never been so desperate in his life. He wants her fingers back, or her tongue, or even that terrifying thing writhing between her legs -

...Commence insemination...

He doesn't even hear it, even though it's right there inside of his brain, unavoidable. Dieter doesn't hear, because the moment the voice floats into his body, the slick tip of her cock, more like a tentacle than any penis he'd ever seen, slips easily inside of him.

It's immediately swelling and growing as it slips deeper. He can feel as he's stretched wider and wider around it, the whines that leave his chest turning more and more desperate with each throb of the thing plundering his hole. It's deeper than anything has ever been, he can feel it as it wriggles around through him, pushing aside organs and pulsing into the deepest parts of him. It's impossibly wide too, the deep stretch in his asshole unlike anything he's ever felt, even two cocks being no match for this thing she's wedged inside of him.

And the deeper it pushes, the wider it pulls him, the more he craves it, the more he needs something to anchor him down and ground him even as he floats along, hoisted in the air of a fucking spaceship to be bred by an alien creature.

Whoever his captor is, she's benevolent, and she gives him exactly what he wants. Her long hands wrapping themselves around his hips, finger tips pressing on the bulge in his belly, massaging him and drawing soft ah ah ah's from his mouth. She likes it when he makes noise, he can tell by the burst of approval tingling down his spine, like she's singing something beautiful to him as she destroys the very hole she just prepared.

When those same fingers trail down to his balls, the throbbing in their tips turning to frantic thrumming, vibrating his sack in her hand, he knows he's done for. The machine around his cock starts sucking in earnest, switched back on by some command unheard by Dieter. The tight grip it had around his base is gone, and all he can feel is relentless sucking, the buzzing along his balls, and the writhing tentacle cock deep in his guts, fucking the life out of him.

He feels higher than he's ever been, and before he knows it he's coming, his cock throbbing and pulsing in the tube that contains him, spilling out seemingly endlessly as the thing inside him writhes, pressing against his prostate and milking him for more and more and more.

He doesn't stop coming. It's still leaking out of him, his balls spent and drawn, but his cock red and throbbing and sore but still so drippy from the relentless onslaught in his asshole.

Around him everything whirrs to life. Lights flickering on control panels, sparkling across his vision. There's movement too, above and to the sides of him, but he can't move, doesn't even much care what's going on as he still twitches and comes and comes with her tentacock buried in him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck -"

There's pulsing. The gentle throb of her fingers was one thing, but the thing inside him is now pulsing so deep it stretches him wide as each pulse ripples from the base of her through to the tip, where he can feel it burst and fill him.

And with one final wave, the biggest yet, the thing inside him throbs and bursts once more before she releases a pained gasp. The fingers around his hips don't release, the throbbing in the tips of them so quick the vibrations are numbing his skin.

Dieter can hear it - actually hear it - her voice uttering some gibberish he doesn't understand, and the thrumming pulse of her fingers eases off, even if the depth of her cock does not.

...Processing...complete...

His own breaths are the only ones he can hear among the slow winding down of the machine around him. There's other sounds too, as his vision hazes and blurs. Snicks of tubes disconnecting, the hydraulic hiss of moving machinery, the soft steps of the alien behind him as she pulls away, and out of him, with one final gasp from both of them as the impossible length of the appendage she had buried in him finally comes free.

The machine unlatches from his cock without another sound, before collapsing into some hidden compartment in the floor. The panel lights switch themselves off, and his restraints fall slack. He can finally move again, twist to see her, even though all of him aches too much to ever want to move again.

But he does. Anything to see her one last time, because he knows in his bones that this is his last chance. He's never known it himself, but he's certain she looks how love feels. Even now as she reduces back down to something a little smaller, but nonetheless imposing, he can tell that that's what she is. And maybe it's her function, the draw of her electrifying skin. Maybe she looks this way to make processing easier. Still, looking at her, he already knows he'd do it again, if only to lay his eyes on the thing that looks so much like a love he's never known.

With a final look into those beautiful, endless eyes, he lets exhaustion take him, the last remnants of her voice flitting through his veins just as he succumbs to darkness.

...Thank you...

He dreams of a light so bright he's certain he can hear it, the harsh metallic glare of it buzzing through his ears, making them ring and his head spin.

But the light gives way to darkness as he wakes, and he sees the very same stars that took him, just as distant as they've ever been, and looking down to the city below from the hills, he sees stars there too, as close as they always are, and the ache taking deep and low in his belly is forgotten, if only until dawn breaks across the horizon.

[thedexcat]

Dr. Kel's Fears

So I got that Voices of the Void brainrot going on and had a thought about the nightmare sequences. They seem to indicate Dr. Kel fearing things like drowning, enclosed spaces, mannequins, starvation, and so on. But... isn't there a prevalent source of fear in the game that's conspicuously absent from the list of nightmares?

Aliens. Space. The Void and the Voices we hear from it. Dr. Kel never has any nightmares directly relating to these things. Which, to me, implies a lot of things about Kel's 'canon' personality. Like I get the impression that Canon Kel would totally be down to hang out with the Arirals, possibly being largely unaffected by the "fake alien abduction/invasion" pranks.

In other words, Dr. Kel feels like one of those chat members saying the game feels 'cozy' while the streamer is in the verge of a heart attack.

But y'know. That's just my interpretation/speculation.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Your blog is very funny, but it also genuinely forced me to read better and more closely. It points out the difference between what the author's cultural biases imply and what's actually being said.

On that note ... What do you think would happen if the Souls (from Host) had the technology to open the Vampires (from Host) and posses them? How would the takeover work?

Also, separately...if bella were possessed by a soul edward would not notice until it was time to turn her.

Dang, this is high praise anon, I'm very very flattered.

And that's an interesting question, let's dive in.

The Sorry Tale of the Fire Eater Planet

Early on in the story, when Wanda is still in Soulsville and lecturing at a university about various planets, we learn about the world of the fire eaters.

Here we get a fascinating first glance at the arrogance and hubris of souls, as well as how they're affected by the biases and prejudices of the worlds they colonize.

The souls successfully colonized planet with little trouble (certainly compared to Earth/or even the Seaweed world), they judged the dominant/only intelligent life forms to be the fiery creatures which subsisted on floral substances and all was well.

However, they had a horrible realization later, turns out those flowers were sentient and it was just... you know... the fire eaters were a little... they were... um...

WELL, THE POINT IS THE SOULS HAVE NOW SWITCHED THE FIRE EATERS' DIETS AND SOULS CAN BECOME THE FLOWERS AND THEY ALL LIVE IN HARMONY AND OH GOD THE SOULS HAVE BEEN EATING SENTIENT CREATURES FOR YEARS, CAUSING THEM INORDINATE AMOUNT OF PAIN AND HORRIFYING DEATHS, OH GOD.

It's a story that makes Wanda as our narrator, as well as the other souls, deeply uncomfortable. Her students are aghast that anyone would live on the fire eater planet, even now that this has been sorted out, and Wanderer is too (for all she tries to pretend she isn't).

There's a lot of takeaways from this story, but the big one is this: souls tend to only observe the most obviously dominant intelligent species.

On our planet, and given how soul psychology is not unsimilar to ours at the end of the day, humans on Earth are hopping. We've spread across the globe to conditions which should be unsurvivable for our species, we're apex predators to the point where, as a group in our ideal environment, we face very few threats from other species, we make extensive use of technology, we've left our own planet, stupid large brain to body ratio--it mirrors a lot of what souls look for in host species/their first species.

The spiders were a technological species with space faring technology, per Wanda at least they seem to have a good relationship with the souls as a species and seem to voluntarily allow parasitic behavior, and in turn the souls view them as extraordinarily reliable and use them to build their technology. For all souls clearly want to experience different things, they want more than just being spiders forever, they clearly really really really like technology. Oh, they'll dabble in other things, but make crystal ice cities and you have their attention.

Which means that it makes sense that the souls didn't decide they should become humpback whales.

But it also means they're unlikely to realize vampires even exist.

Why Not?

First, the initial study of Earth was primarily sampling. We learn that there were crop circles/alien abductions. The souls observed the Earth for a while, they would suck up humans to study their physiology and make sure they developed the technology to keep them healthy and safe, and it wasn't until probably years after that that they began slowly infiltrating society--an operation which was hyperfixated on human society and how to best colonize the planet as swiftly, seamlessly, and non-violently as possible (not a shock that Wanda's mentor/therapist posed as a highly educated and presumably relatively wealthy couple as one of the people on the front lines).

The problem is where vampires come in.

The vampire population in the world of Twilight is likely very very very small. Estimated less than a thousand here.

That's not even a needle in a haystack, you aren't finding that needle.

Then these vampires tend to dwell in remote areas, away from humans except for feeding.

Then, add onto that, they have self-enforcement that they should be as subtle and unnoticeable to the human population as possible.

It's highly unlikely the souls would even realize that vampires exist since humans themselves don't. The souls would be fixated on understanding human society, culture, physiology, etc. Humans... don't think demons are real and for the most part there's no evidence to contradict that. And what evidence there is is explained away by other things.

Anything the souls might notice gets stamped out by the Volturi very quickly.

As a result, I think the most likely thing is that souls would have no idea that vampires exist and as a result would certainly not have the technology to deal with them, as they didn't spend any time studying them the way they did humans.

Say They Do

Alright, they notice, first they have to decide if a vampire is at all different from a tiger. Yes, these creatures eat sentient beings, seeming to exclusively subsist on the eucalyptus leaves that is human blood, but are they sentient? They may look similar to humans, but so do great apes, and the souls didn't take them over.

This... probably depends what they witness of vampires. Newborn vampires are noted as very feral acting, for lack of a better word, they also are going to be in ragged clothes, they're not going to have washed properly, and they break whatever tools they try to use.

This is most of the vampire population, shortlived mayflies who last about a year.

Bella's tale biases us in that she meets a WEIRD collection of vampires that are very very very put together. The Volturis, Cullens, Denali, and all the others we meet are much more rare than your newborn army vampire.

But alright, say they figure out this is a second sentient creature... that eats the other one. ("FUCK FIRE EATERS ALL OVER AGAIN" sayeth the souls as they cry, why does this keep happening?)

I imagine they start with much the same methodology as other creatures they take over. First, they observe from a great distance, likely using this to gauge a vampire's strength, behavior, etc. Then they take samples to make sure they can develop medications/painless euthanasia to keep them running properly. And if that all goes well they get the rubber stamp of host species (if it doesn't... well, it's more likely it does if the Spider success rate is to be believed, Wanda notes that there is no problem that they haven't managed to solve/no species they set their eyes on they haven't been able to conquer).

However, if it doesn't, the souls have a choice to make. Do they take over the humans, knowing there's this other sentient species that is much stronger than the humans who they cannot control, or do they call it a wash and go home.

They seem really excited about Earth, so I think they'd still go for it, they'd just make sure to develop whatever technology they need to suitably protect their new human bodies from vampires/develop a nutritious alternative to human blood for vampires to consume.

"HELLO VAMPIRES :D!" the souls sayeth once they've taken over enough of humanity/protected them from vampire consumption, and Aro gets to stare at them in fucking disbelief as the gods have descended from Olympus and they're... this.

And is he out of a job?

(He also cries because the souls are trapped in 1950's Americana entertainment... that is still censored beyond that. What happened to his plays? His books? His cinema?

WHY IS EVEN 'LEAVE IT TO BEAVER' CENSORED?! HOW CAN YOU EVEN CENSOR THAT SHOW?!)

But back to if they can take over vampires. Well, now they need to take over both humans and vampires. Honestly, I imagine they'd target vampires first.

Vampires are a smaller population, they're isolated both from humanity as well as from one another, and if they notice what's happening to the humans they'll wig out and cause violence and havoc >:(. If they take care of the vampires first, on the other hand, the humans won't even notice and the souls will stop vampires from killing humans at all anymore or causing the vampire population to grow out of control.

Hooray!

Who they target first depends on how closely they've been watching and what they learn.

The ideal soul scenario is they'd get to the Volturi first. They have gifts such that the souls would easily, through them, be able to infiltrate every other coven and quickly take over the world. This would be done, I imagine, by having an abducted vampire go to Volterra to say they've witnessed a crime.

It'd be more ideal to get a guard or one of the big three/the wives... but the big three rarely leave their building and the wives are in a tower. If the big three do leave, they're surrounded by many guards and or meeting with enemy covens, that's a lot of vampires who can notice another vampire being abducted.

That's also the problem with the guards. From what we see they're rarely sent alone and they don't spend much time wandering about without meeting other vampires. They're either killing other vampires, meeting with them, or headed back to Volterra.

It's not impossible... but it's a risk and they'd have to implant an entire group of guards at once.

A less risky but better operation would be to abduct members of various covens across the globe, letting them then infect their coven members/covens in the area, and send souls to Volterra until someone manages to get one of them.

... Though could just be the Volturi, being a ridiculously paranoid operation to begin with who have Renata shielding them from physical harm, one day find themselves in a world of deeply, deeply, deeply fucking weird vampires.

The newborn wars just stop, for now reason, which is good but... what? The number of human deaths due to vampires is tremendously down as well suddenly. It's like the vampires aren't fucking eating anyone at all??? What???

And the visitors to Volterra are getting.... weird....

They refuse to touch Aro's hand (don't want him realizing they're a body snatcher) but are prattling on about peace, and love, and how they've found this amazing new substance that isn't human blood to subsist on. Isn't it amazing?

"Yeah, how bout that" - Aro

And like the humans before them, the Volturi slowly realize that their entire species (and I imagine the humans as well at this point) are not what they were, someone else is driving the bus, and that someone is... this.

The Volturi studiously avoid contact with either for fear of being snatched (as they clearly can and will do this to vampires) and... don't have to enforce the law anymore because the secret's blown anyway and no one's eating humans.

That, or they do get the Volturi, and the only hope for new vampires is if Demetri hasn't met you/the souls didn't get to the Cullens/Bella. Though... they probably get to Bella and the Cullens. All they need is one Cullen, and Bella... somehow would wander off alone with the wrong vampire and walk out a body snatchee.

Though, that said, if the vampires are liable longterm hosts is... dubious. We learn in canon that most humanity was taken over because of the surprise, people weren't expecting it and so they got eaten. However, an adult human who is aware of what is happening is so likely to resist that the hosts no longer allowed transfer into adults at all, adult humans who are caught are immediately euthenized.

Perhaps the initial vampires can be taken off guard the way humans were with little issue, but even then--I imagine it's the newborn vampires that have the highest success rate. Older vampires have lived too long, have too much experience, and to have survived to that age likely too much willpower.

Maybe the souls manage to take out all the old vampires by surprise, in which case they might be good, or they miss some in which case those are getting euthenized and you have to be transferred into a newborn vampire body.

Would Edward Notice if Bella Had Been Souled

Alright, we'll assume this is in the world where the souls didn't notice vampires.

Well, thing is, I doubt Bella would be a first pick/on the front lines for the takeover. Bella Swan is a teenage girl from a lower middle class divorced family. She has very few friends, few family, and moves to a rural town.

She doesn't have enough reach to quickly infect a large population.

So, by the time we get to Bella, probably a lot of people have been souled and the Cullens have likely noticed.

Doc in the book was one of the first to notice because he was in the medical field, and the souls couldn't help themselves and started improving human medical equipment almost immediately.

Carlisle, while in a very rural hospital, has at least heard rumor of this occurring and like Doc is wondering "what the actual fuck?" This is combined with all the other signs that started popping up when the souls got confident.

Forks is so small that it's unclear if it's gotten to right away. It is relatively close to a large city like Seattle, so it's possible it gets hit early (vs. say random person in Australian Outback) but it's also possible they get a bit of time.

There's an aside here to be made that La Push is... having a time again, as this time it's not vampires, but boy it sure looks like people are being possessed by some kind or horrible demons and HM better stick to ourselves as much as we can and prepare for the worst. La Push is used to this bullshit.

But right, back to Bella.

Well, either Forks is entirely souled and the Cullens have had no choice but to flee as people who are... well... not and can't be. Or Bella would be one of the first in the town, but probably not one of the first humans taken over by a long shot, in which case the Cullens are also still likely not in Forks and have sadly gone to the wilderness.

On the off chance they are there, I imagine Bella smells weird and has that weird thing going on with her eyes.

And I just remember you wrote that question as if Edward and Bella had already met and were deeply in love, the answer is sadly yes due to smell and eye color, but Edward probably wouldn't otherwise notice the vast difference in personality.

[frozenartscapes]

I had a theory about Desmond that I'm even more confident in now that we've just got the latest chapter.

I don't think he's an alien, but I do think he's being mind controlled.

This kind of goes along with the human experiments theory, but what if Donovan actually didn't want himself or potentially his family to undergo experiments to alter their mental abilities? What if he was actually in the process of trying to shut all of that down, but some outside force swept in and did something to him to force him under their control?

Like, I think we can all agree the man is freaky. But Melinda insisting he's an alien may imply that he wasn't always this freaky. He was a weird kid in the flashbacks, too, but it's clear it's gotten worse as he grew up. But what if he was relatively normal when he and Melinda first met and got married, but then something happened and his entire personality just...changed. One day he disappears, and then a few days later, he returns essentially a different man with a strange scar all around his head.

Suspicious.

I think Melinda believes he's an alien as her mind trying to come up with a reason for why her husband suddenly started acting so differently. And terrifying. If this show is set in the 50s-60s, that's right in the middle of the space age and science fiction depicting little green men and abductions by flying saucers. So that's the best guess Melinda - someone who already has a rather open mind about fantasy - could come up with.

Either way - if Donovan did that to himself or if some outside force kidnapped him and subjected him to the changes against his will - I think it's clear that something happened to him that fundamentally changed his personality. I guess we'll have to find out in the next chapter, but I think Melinda witnessed that sudden change and the alien thing was the most logical answer her brain could come up with.

[cyren-myadd]

Rant about Eywa theories

Eywa is one of the most interesting concepts in the Avatar universe, imo. The concept of an interplanetary consciousness that every native organism can "interface" with is so cool. One thing that really fascinates me about Eywa is how she goes about "protecting only the balance of life" as Neytiri explained to Jake. As of Avatar 1, Eywa did not react to the human threat mining and destroying the forest for several years, nor the genocide/abduction of the Sarentu clan, even though Eywa would've been aware of what was happening when the Na'vi shared their memories with her soul trees. She only reacted to the threat AFTER she was exposed to human memories of the destruction of earth when Jake interfaced with her via his avatar body, and then again when she interfaced with Grace’s human body. The reaction was similar to an immune response within a body attacking a foreign virus, with native fauna mobilizing to attack anything that registered as alien. One interesting thing of note about the immune response is that the animals were not physically connected to Eywa when they attacked, which means Eywa can somehow send commands to organisms “wirelessly.” This phenomena could also explain how the atokirina conveniently show up to stop Neytiri from killing Jake. Anyway, the immune response won the final battle of A1, in A2 we saw the immune response can't protect Pandora in its entirety. The recoms could get past the immune response undetected, and Bridgehead and the whaling ships didn't face an immune response at all.

Another interesting thing about Eywa we learned from the original script for Avatar 2, is that she is confirmed to have caused Grace’s pregnancy. Norm describes Kiri’s birth as “parthenogenesis,” which is a biological process in which an egg produces viable offspring without sperm from a male. (idk if the script needs a spoiler warning, so I'm putting one just to be safe) Based on the fact that Jake describes the pregnancy as “a mystery,” we can assume parthenogenetic birth isn’t something normal to the Na’vi’s alien reproductive cycle. On earth, parthenogenesis is only found in invertebrates and some plants. Assuming that Na’vi reproduction is somewhat similar to earth animal reproduction (which I think we can safely do since the Sully children clearly have inherited different traits from their parents, implying that they get half of their DNA from each parent just like on earth, but they are aliens so I could be completely wrong here), Grace would’ve had gametes inside of her avatar’s reproductive system, which are cells that only contain half of the genetic material to produce a viable offspring. A complex, multicellular organism like a Na’vi couldn’t exist without a full set of genes, so in order to produce a zygote (a new cell with a full set of genes that can grow into an embryo), the other half of the genetic material must’ve come from somewhere else, and the only place it could’ve come from is Eywa herself. This means that Eywa, to some capacity, can create or at least copy and reproduce genetic material. Since Kiri is so similar to Grace, it’s possible the other half of her genes are just a complete copy of Grace.

From all this we can conclude some things about Eywa.

We know she is not:

All powerful

All knowing

A “god” in the traditional sense

We know she is capable of:

Storing memories, including memories of the deceased from the last time they connected with her

Making decisions to react to threats based on those memories

Interfacing with an alien’s nervous system

Commanding fauna

Sending signals to organisms without physical contact

Creating/changing genetic material

What is still unclear is how Eywa’s consciousness works. Is she:

A sentient individual?

A hive mind of the deceased Na’vi?

An amalgamation of consciousness built from memories?

Something akin to a biological artificial intelligence?

Now that we’ve established the things that are confirmed about Eywa, I want to get into some speculation about what else she might be capable of. Note that from this point on I’m being purely SPECULATIVE and I’m not saying any of this is for sure possible in canon, I’m just coming up with hypotheses based on info we already have. After the end of Avatar 2, it looks like Jake and the Na’vi are planning to make their stand against the RDA, but if they want any hope of winning against the RDA’s superior technology, they’re going to need a combination of a Na’vi war force and divine intervention, just like in Avatar 1. The question is, how will Eywa help them? The one form of defense we’ve seen from her is the immune response, but that can only go so far. It can be fooled by avatars and recoms, and it is not strong enough to attack a heavily fortified base like Bridgehead. Eywa is going to have to step up her game, and I’ve created three theories on how she might do that.

📢potential spoiler warning for the last theory!📢

Theory 1: The 880 Virus

Project 880 is a screenplay James Cameron wrote in 1995 that eventually morphed into the Avatar we know and love today. One element in 880 that never made it to Avatar was the counter-viruses. For every earth virus the RDA brought with them to Pandora, Eywa created a counter-virus that would stop it, protecting both native organisms and the humans from getting sick from the viruses ever again. The RDA was even planning to create vaccines using the counter-viruses and sell them back on earth. At the end of Project 880 when the RDA is forced to retreat, Jake tells them that if they ever come back, Eywa will unleash a deadly virus that will wipe out any human that dares set foot on Pandora again. Even though Project 880 is not canon, I could see James Cameron revisiting his old idea to help the protagonists shake off the RDA forever. The problem is they’d need to find a way to protect the friendly humans like Spider and Norm.

Theory 2: Avatar Kiri

Between the parthenogenetic birth and Kiri’s ability to control vines (seen in The High Ground comic) and anemones (seen in Avatar 2), the movies are clearly setting up for there to be something special about her. In both the comic scene where she controlled plants and the movie scene where she controlled the anemones, the characters around her expressed confusion that she could do so, from which we can assume those are not normal abilities of a Na’vi. Since Kiri is also established to have a deep connection to Eywa, it is possible she is meant to act as an “avatar.” In the original context of the word, an avatar is a manifestation of a deity in mortal form, so Kiri would act as an avatar for Eywa. Since Kiri is a person and not a… whatever Eywa is, she can make her own decisions and react quickly to problems without having to absorb memories first. There’s no more information to speculate about what other abilities Kiri may develop in the future, so unfortunately, there’s not much else to discuss here that we can base on any evidence.

Theory 3: If you can’t beat em, join em

📢Here’s where we’re getting into potential spoiler territory.📢 In the BTS footage for Avatar 2, there were some scripts accidentally shown which described some very interesting scenes: Spider, breathing without a mask, and Kiri confessing to Mo’at that she caused it to happen. There was also some concept art shown in Las Vegas that depicted Spider with a neural queue plugged into the underwater spirit tree with Kiri. Full disclaimer, it’s entirely possible these are scrapped ideas and will not be seen in the Avatar franchise, but for the sake of this hypothesis, let’s assume they’re legit. I’ve seen a lot of people asking the question of HOW would this happen, but I haven’t seen anybody asking an equally important question: WHY? I’m very interested in the HOW and maybe I’ll make a discussion post on it later, but for my hypothesis let’s just talk about the WHY. Even though Kiri claimed responsibility for it, I don’t think this is something she could do without the help of Eywa, since Na’vi aren’t established to have the ability to radically alter other organisms. So why would Eywa want to give a human kid the ability to breathe the Pandoran air? Sure, he’s Kiri’s friend, but Eywa has never intervened to save an individual’s life just because people cared about them before (otherwise we’d still have Neteyam RIP). As Neytiri said, “The Great Mother protects the balance of life.” Eywa did not intervene to stop the destructive mining or protect the Sarentu, she only intervened AFTER Grace’s memories showed her that the RDA could potentially cause planet-wide destruction like on earth. So if she gave Spider this life-saving ability, there must be a bigger reason for it other than just Kiri wanting him to survive. My hypothesis is that Eywa has realized what a massive threat the humans pose to Pandora, and that her immune system response is insufficient to protect her biosphere. Her solution is to behave like a virus and weaponize the humans against themselves. When a virus infects a healthy organism, it “hacks” into healthy cells and reprograms them to attack uninfected cells and produce more viruses. Eywa will “hack” Spider’s biology the same way she “hacked” into Grace’s nervous system to interface with her, and will “reprogram” him to breathe the air and have a neural queue. Spider is already loyal to the Na’vi, so she doesn’t need to do anything further to him, but what if she repeated the process with other humans? Any human who gained a neural queue would be able to experience tsaheylu and the connection between all living things. Humans who are already loyal to Eywa would be able to fight back better with their new abilities, and it would give Eywa more access to more memories to gain a better understanding of the enemy. Humans who are loyal to the RDA would be more inclined to switch sides after experiencing Eywa’s consciousness, much like Jake did. I’m aware this final theory is a bit more out there than the others, but it spawned from me trying to answer the question of WHY would Spider get the ability to breathe the air and I felt like there had to be a bigger reason than just Kiri wanting to save him. Unlike Kiri, there’s not some special significance about Spider (other than his connection to Quaritch, but I don’t think Eywa would care about that) that would make him vital to the fight against the RDA, so I thought, what if he’s not special, he just happened to be the first piece of a much larger plan? And the result is this theory.

What do you think of my theories and do you guys have any of your own to share?

TLDR: Eywa is really cool, and in the future I think she could possibly defeat the RDA by unleashing a deadly virus, giving Kiri special powers, or "converting" Spider and other humans.