#chittering abominations

[dougielombax]

Good for him.

I guess….

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 256

Look, Bruce had had no plans to be a cryptid, he swore. 

Vigilante? Yes. Dark abomination of the night? No. And he was, he was technically just a dude. A well trained (and maybe feral) human, but still just a human! Apparently not to the rest of Gotham, and he honestly should have nipped those rumors when they first started. 

But like, it was also perfect for his secret identity. No one exactly expected an undead shadow-beast to have a secret identity after all. Or an undead shadow beast and some sort of ghost child to have ones, as the small child- which turned to small children- he’d taken in discovered. 

Which, look, he had tried to get Dick (and later Barbara, and Jason, and Tim, and Steph, and by the time of Duke and Cass had given up) to stop. He had tried everything he could but no, nothing could stop them. Literally nothing that he had done could stop any of them, so he had trained them instead. 

And the children were all little shits. At least by the fact that Nightwing had lead the newly-made Justice League right where he was perching, continuing to chitter and giggle near hysterically as he ducked behind him. 

And somehow they were here to try and recruit him. Great. 

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Does–

Does Legacy...

Do you think.....??????????

*sniffle* :'))))) omg listen

Can you imagine Legacy attempting to smile? Just... Something between Toothless from the first httyd movie and Venom, jaw unhinging in a terrifying fashion, something in his chest clicking and trilling like you'd imagine an unholy abomination of the abyss to sound like, and just going

:DDD

oh my moon and stars you are so right. this is so cute

before he met you, Foul Legacy had never smiled before- not kindly, at least. a vicious, slashed grin across his face in the midst of battle, maybe, but nothing soft, nothing gentle. then he met you and fell head over heels with every part of you, one of his favorite features being that small, sweet smile of yours. he brightens whenever he sees it, happily nudging his face against yours, purring and chittering rapidly. sometimes you'll tap him on the shoulder and when he turns, you'll give him a big smile, listening to his delighted trills and laughing when he scoops you into his arms, snuggling his face against the crook of your neck

he wants to smile for you, too, be that bright spot whenever you have a dark day

so Legacy practices. it feels odd for an Abyssal creature like him- he's not made to smile- but he persists because he wants to surprise you. when the day finally comes you feel a gentle push against your shoulder, turning and tilting your head expectantly at a slightly nervous Foul Legacy. there's a cracking sound, almost like bones breaking, as his jaw unhinges and he smiles for you

you stare for a moment, open-mouthed, then let out an overjoyed giggle as you jump up to hug around his neck, peppering his masked face with kisses as he chirps. although uncanny, his smile is adorable, and you feel your heart melt when he carefully licks your cheek, delicately nibbling your fingers

Foul Legacy smiles a lot more after that

[lets-try-some-writing]

Okay, in regards to your Unicron is a parent to humans post, when you mention Unicron possessing an animal, I imagined a squirrel. Not some epic beast... I imagined the alien god of destruction sleeping at the center of the Earth as a squirrel.

But it fits. Squirrels are agents of chaos.

Squirrel runs into road, no one, not even the squirrel knows what's gonna happen. Squirrel gets under your vehicle's hood, chews the wires and makes a nest. Squirrel gets into the walls of your house, chews the wires and stores and insane amount of nuts. Squirrel gets cornered, jumps at you like a mad lad.

Could you imagine if Unicron just decided, "I'm a squirrel today and I'm going terrorize the Cybertronians and my brother can't even get mad cause chewing wires is what they do." Or "Hey, I'm a squirrel and travel-sized. I now shall nest in Raf's hair and protect the children this way."

Sorry this a wacked out thought that made me laugh, and felt compelled to share.

Dude I laughed for a solid minute reading this-

Agents of Chaos

After finding out about his surprise offspring, Unicron became protective immediately. But he quickly discovered several things, those being: He couldn't move or act all that much if he wanted to keep his spawn alive. His children quickly became fearful of anything that was abnormal to them. And lastly, fragging with the Cybertronians on his surface was far more enjoyable when there was nothing they could do to stop him.

With these thoughts in mind, Unicron devised the perfect avatar with which to protect, interact with, and care for his young while also making life difficult for everyone else and not drawing too much attention to himself. He searched the other organisms on his surface for days until he found it, the perfect avatar.

The squirrel.

It was chaos incarnate but so common in most places that it would fit right in even if Unicron used it for nefarious purposes. His chackling caused the earth to shake in places as he chose his first subject and took control of it. And while he did have some initial issues piloting the body of the small monster, he quickly got the hang of it and moved to meet the three among his many children who required his attention more so than any others.

Opting to go to Rafael, Unicron in the body of the squirrel quickly took up a place in the boy's arms, earning him a startled squeak and awed touches in response. Unicron chittered, oh so pleased with himself as he spent days refusing to leave Rafael alone, eventually gaining his avatar a place as the boy's pet, just like he planned. Then once he gained a solid foundation from which to work with, his avatar, now named Chitters, snuck into Rafael's school bag and snuck into the base that way.

Rafael was too busy working on his homework and chatting with his Cybertronian guardian to notice as Chitters wormed his way out of the bag and Unicron directed it to begin causing chaos. Unicron didn't want to totally sabotage the Cybertronians who called themselves Autobots, not while they were keeping his children safe. So he didn't direct Chitters to harm anything of importance, but he most certainly did go out of his way to make life hard for everyone. The squirrel quickly gained the ire of the entire team as Chitters tore into wires connecting to certain consoles in the base (never the groundbridge of course. Unicron couldn't risk harming his children after all). Chitters also stole small components from Ratchet's workspace and a few of Bumblebee's video games.

By the end of the day Chitters was banned from base and Rafael took him home with no small amount of guilt. Of course no matter what Rafael did to try and keep Chitters from getting into base, it was useless since Chitters snuck in by hiding on Jack and Miko of by straight up waltzing into the base via Unicron's aid. The abominable squirrel swiftly became an unstoppable pain in the aft that none of the team could do anything about and accepted since the squirrel kept coming back.

Optimus eventually accepted that he was being cursed and merely sighed when his datapads disappeared randomly only to be found later bitten to shreds by a determined squirrel. Ratchet however never gave up trying to hide his small items and tools, even when they were repeatedly found and stolen by Chitters at Unicron's behest. Arcee stopped fighting back when Chitters clambered all over her and gnawed on her outer plating like an irritating but ultimately harmless scraplet. Bulkhead and Wheeljack took to booking it in the opposite direction whenever the "demon squirrel" came near. Unicron abused their reactions until he laughed himself into a stupor, even more so when the two wreckers began carrying tower shields to try and fend the Chitters off. Bumblebee valiantly tried and failed to keep Chitters from destroying his video game controllers and very nearly crushed the squirrel in outrage after the fifth time he had to replace his controller.

Bumblebee: YOU DETESTIBlE VERMIN!

Chitters/Unicron: *destroying yet another controller* This is what you deserve you abominable creation of Primus!

Bumblebee: *chasing after the squirrel* PERISH!

Chitters/Unicron: MWAhAHA!

Every single member of the team hated the squirrel with a seething passion. At times Optimus, usually ever merciful, contemplated taking the squirrel out back and putting it down in the most gruesome way possible. His contemplative thoughts nearly became reality once when Chitters got into his personal datapads that he usually kept hidden away. Those were his only remaining items from his time as Orion and he may or may not have blasted much of the wall into scrap as he widely shot at the squirrel. That day Unicron learned Optimus's limits and he did not touch the Prime's personal items again. He wanted to cause chaos, but he didn't want to earn the true ire of Primus's chosen vessel.

The team hated Chitters and the children knew it. So eventually Rafael tried in vain to let the squirrel go for the sanity of everyone. Long story short, he failed. No matter what he did, Chitters always came back and nestled in his hair like an unwelcome louse. Unicron wasn't upset in the slightest at the children gathering together to try and attempt to get rid of his avatar. In fact he found it to be a fun game to find a way to sneak his avatar back into the Autobot base.

Of course not everything was fun and games for the chaos god, though he greatly enjoyed messing with the Autobots. The Decepticons were a real threat, one that loomed over the children every time they left base. As such Chitters followed the children whenever they left and proved to be far more dangerous than anything else out there once the squirrel got on a Decepticon. Unicron would not tolerate anyone touching HIS children, especially not a disgusting spawn of Primus.

Vehicons that got too close found a rapid squirrel in their joints, tearing away at cables and wiring while somehow managing to not be squished as the Cybertronian flailed. Starscream was met with a rapid squirrel to the windshield once when he attempted to bomb Bulkhead, and simultaneously the children. The seeker ended up crashing into a wall and very nearly being blown to bits. Knockout got scratched one time by Chitters and swore off touching the children ever again. Soundwave straight up avoided the squirrel and didn't bother with the human children upon seeing what Chitters could do. Breakdown once tried to squish the squirrel, but no matter how many times he attempted to, Chitters got back up and tried to maul him. Megatron very nearly got his optics destroyed once when he got too close to the children and has since put out a kill on sight order for the rapid avatar of Unicron (not that any heed it).

Seeing all this the team were suspicious as pit in regards to the squirrel. Ratchet tried to drop a weight on the squirrel only for it to bounce off harmlessly, earning awed and shocked expressions from the medic. Bulkhead and Wheeljack attempted to blast Chitters with a flamethrower only for the squirrel to brush it off and continue onward and chase the wrecker duo who screamed like human girls. Bumblebee made his own attempts to murder the avatar through various means ranging from but not limited to sniping, acid, drowning, crushing, and even suffocation. But nothing ever worked and in the end after months of enduring Chitters, Optimus knelt before the squirrel, glared at it, and ordered Unicron to get the hell out of his base until he behaved.

The chaos god obliged, not even hesitating after he very nearly sent the Prime into a rage when he touched his datapads. A few days later he returned and nestled in Rafael's hair again.

Optimus knew that Chitters was an avatar and the rest of the team sensed something else was off, but they never commented and focused their efforts on what needed to be done. They only really attempted to kill Chitters when they devised a new potential method of extermination. At which point they would try it out on Chitters just to see if it would work or not (which it never did).

[numptypylon]

Downtime's Up - Chapter 17

They’d take a long-ish break here, he thought, Rayla was usually the one to convince of that, but seeing as she was currently horizontal… long-ish break was for sure.

Callum pulled his boots off and rolled up his pants to his knees.

“I’ll go take Bait for a froggy-paddle before we eat?” he said. “He loves it, but he needs supervision, you know… being…”

“…Delicious… mmmhmm, I remember,” Rayla muttered sleepily. “Go splish-splash… well away from me…”

“Stella? Do you want to come, or are you on team water-is-a-liquid-abomination-unto-elf with Rayla?”

Stella scampered up his coat sleeve and collar to perch on his head, chittering excitedly.

“No, she’s not,” Rayla grumbled. “You’ll see. Don’t pull his hair out, Stella. Him not being gifted with natural handholds doesn’t mean you get to mess with that kinda rare perfection.”

Callum turned away to head for the river, his cheeks on fire. He had wondered a few times if Rayla liked his new haircut and that wasn’t really the kind of thing you could ask someone when you weren’t a thing-

Read more of the seventeenth chapter of Downtime's Up on Ao3, wherein it's rayllum roadtrip time and poopy hijinx ensue

[entomolog-t]

Valentine's Day Special- Conversation Hearts

Happy Valentine's Day! As a treat here's a not-currently-canon-but-maybe-future-canon short for INSTAЯ as a part of the G/t Valentine's Prompt List.

Bram find's a new way to get his messages across.

Word count: 759

(Bonus there is some that will accompany this short- I'd just like to get a little farther on GtWAC and my comissions before taking the time to finish)

____

“I know you washed your hands but there is something deeply wrong about that.” 

Bram pulls back his hand from the batter with a glare, chirping incomprehensible words, yet the cadence made it clear he was mocking me by mimicking my chiding. Below us, Honey whines, desperate for her share of Bram’s stolen batter.

I return his glare, though I can't help but chuckle at his disdain as I shoo him away from the bowl. His eyes narrow as he chitters some sort of grievance at me, Honey’s pleas going unanswered as he makes quick work of the batter coating his claws.

The sight sends a chill down my spine. 

Was that a tongue? I shudder, not wanting to think too long about the logistics of how his nightmarish mouth worked. I turn my focus away from what I'd come to recognize as his muttering and back to the task at hand, whisking in the pistachio cream and cardamom extract, the batter taking on an almost cozy scent. One by one, I fill the cupcake papers, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips at the thought of how nice the house would smell as they baked. The soft music playing nearly hid the sounds of his talons as they clicked across the countertop- thankfully, away from the batter.

It felt … good. 

Normal even. Just to be able to ease into something familiar again, if only for a moment. 

For just that singular moment, I could get lost in a fantasy where there wasn’t a tiny abomination trying to sneak a taste at the cupcake batter… A fantasy where Bram was… Bram and we were just a normal pair of people spending time together. 

My relief didn’t last long, as the unmistakable sound of a plastic bag rustling broke through the cozy ambience. 

I frown. 

He’d, quite literally, gotten into the Conversation Hearts Clyde had dropped off that I’d been planning on using as toppers for the cupcakes.

“You overgrown cockroach,” I scold, though the smile that tugs at the corners of my lips dulls any edge the insult carries, “You act like I don’t feed you.” 

The bag chirps with what I can only assume is some snide retort thrown my way. I sigh, smile still tugging at my lips as I move the tray to the oven. Had he always had such a sweet tooth, or was this something to do with - 

A sort of whistling chirp abruptly pulls me away from my thoughts. I turn my attention to Bram- a conversation heart in his main set of arms. As I’m about to make a comment about his digustingly sweet choice of snack, he holds the heart out towards me and I feel my own freeze in my chest. 

Oh.

I stare at him for a moment. What could have only been a second seeming to stretch far longer than reality should permit. 

There was a dreadful feeling of both being caught off guard and knowing exactly where this was going- my brain rattling off various little sayings printed on those hearts. 

Be mine

You’re cute

Love you

I felt heat rise to my face. 

Kiss me

I swallow. I could only hope that my face didn’t show a fraction of the panic running full tilt through my mind. I mean, of course we’d grown to like each other's company- it’s not like there were any other options out here. All that time together… we’d grown closer but- How was I supposed to respond to this? If anything the majority of our time spent together was spent annoying one another- sure it had been teasing… but certainly not that kind of teasing! I chew on my lip, a strange feeling of dread brewing in my chest- would I break his heart?

Though another question seemed to itch the at the back of my mind, 

Did I have to?

My heart thrums loudly in my ears, each beat feeling all too much like gunfire. I reach my hand out towards him, and he hands me the candy heart, his tail swishing behind him in anticipation. 

I grit my teeth, mind reeling over just what I was supposed to say.

He chitters, and my brow knits together as I recognize the noise. Not nerves... The broken half chirps had become a familiar sound- laughter. As I read the tiny red text, the weight vanishes from my shoulders, a feeling of genuine relief accompanying the all too familiar sting of irritation. Irritation for both Bram and Clyde. 

YOU SUCK

[stealingyourbones]

*places an ostrich egg shell on the table* technically its made of the same stuff as bones. If you would prefer I have a mouse skull too.

For your consideration though, a Superbraindead au where Tim isn't exactly 100% human. Kon knows this because he asked Tim why he had two heart beats and Danny can feel the illusion magic on him the moment they meet. Tim only let's the illusion that makes him look like a human fade away when he is alone with his boys and he knows it's safe.

He knows they dont mind his claws or fangs and Danny and Kon make sure to tell him how pretty his snake like eyes are. It makes his tail thump on the ground like an excited puppy and his wings flutter, the light breeze ruffling his hair against his horns and pointed ears. What exactly is he? Who's to say. Perhaps he's part dragon with patches of scales and leathery wings, he certainly loves shiny things and hoards away the gifts his lovers give him. Perhaps he's a fairy with dragonfly wings, he's certainly mischievous enough. Perhaps he's a demon with bat like with and a spade on his tail, he certainly knows how to make a deal free of loop holes.

Perhaps he's something else all together, something undiscovered. Perhaps his parents were two different things that together made him and thought he was an abomination, perhaps he's just as much a cosmic horror given human shape as Danny is.

Perhaps he's nothing at all.

Whatever he is or isn't, his boys still love him all the same, and he fears what his family would think of him all the same.

RHWKOEJEKEKALWKEK AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

Bro I am weak for funky Not Human AU’s and this concept is simply perfect. That is it. That is all. It is fact.

Tim just carefully showing inhuman traits around the two and both of his boyfriends each time tell him that they accept him and this helping Connor be more comfortable doing some Inhuman Kryptonian Stuff (able to unhinge jaw/move/speak, etc.) around them. It helps Danny as well. He can chitter and click and chirp all he wants and to his delight, Tim and Connor are able to make those sounds with their inhuman vocal cords. They don’t understand what they’re saying, just mimicking the words back at Danny, but he can teach them.

I won’t be too specific on which idea that Anon said Tim could be because I adore every single one of them and want to see all of them used somehow. Tim being a fairy? Good shit. Tim being a demon? Good shit. Tim being an eldritch horror? That’s some good shit right there.

all of it. Just all of their walls of covering to be human fall down slowly yet surely until they can be their truest selfs around each other.

[oreo-oro-orero]

Another Writing prompt

"The Boy Martyr"

Jinx looked over at Ekko now laying passed out in his bed right beside her. He looked so peaceful like this, no worries about being a leader, no enemies to fight, no people to manage or betrayals to be afraid of, no time to be kept or managed, just the peaceful bliss of sleep. Sure sleep wasn't always safe especially when it came to them, specter's of the past pass through both their minds and on some nights waking up crying or gasping for air wasn't all that unusual but tonight was different.

The air was cool but both of their bodies kept each other warm. Soft chirping and chittering of Firelights buzzed around the tree and the sweet and natural smell of pine filled the air and coated the atmosphere in a sense of comfort and safety. Jinx shifted on the bed pulling Ekko up to her, his arms instinctively wrapped around her, gripping onto the seam of her top and wrapping around her waist. She sighed blissfully and a little shiver ran through her body as she could feel Ekko's light breath cascade across the exposed skin of her lean belly.

Candy colored nails gently scratch across Ekko's soft white dreads. They were soft, so so soft, Jinx played with them a bit letting them spill out between her fingers and letting them caress her knuckles. She leaned her head down and took in a light but potent sniff, "Cinnamon.," she quietly sang to herself. Ekko always smelled so good, like a mix of pine and cinnamon, Jinx still questions how a place as brutal as Zaun can produce someone so beautiful like Ekko. From the way his skin glowed in the moonlight, to how soft and clean his dreads were, to his amber brown eyes that swirled with a color akin to gold honey, this moment was perfect, Ekko was perfect.

However something scratched at the back of her mind. An irritation that soon turned to anger. This was Ekko's first time getting any sort of rest for 9 days and what needed to happen to even make this moment she's currently in come to fruition made her skin crawl and heat up with more anger. She can still remember it, some stupid Firelight was caught by a roided shimmer freak and was about to be turned into paste. Jinx was content to let the Firelights be squashed, it's not like she actively wanted it to happen but this was the cost of battle as her late father Silco told her many times before but Ekko...that beautiful but stupid, stupid Boy Savior had to save the day. He says he only rewinded three times but she knows he's lying, she could still here it, the sicking crack of his ribs as the shimmer freaks fist slammed into his side, the thud his body made against the wall, the blind rage and feral scream she let out as the butt of her minigun came down on the head of that Fucking abomination over and over and over again until it was nothing more than paste onf the dirty streets of Zaun. She quickly ran over to Ekko and cradled his limp body in her arms. He was alive and breathing, Thank you...God thank you..., but he was in need of medical attention.

Jinx actively snarled at anyone who wasn't Scar trying to get near him after all, it was thier carelessness that allowed this to happen. She stayed by his side for days in the infirmary, only letting Scar and begrudgingly letting that Little Piltover rat in to visit and check on him. The caretakers said he needed to get as much rest as he could and that's what led her and him laying in this bed, keeping each other warm, keeping each other safe. Jinx found her frown growing deeper though, even before this Ekko was obviously pushing himself, his eyes were bloodshot and the bags under them were so deep they casted their own shadow. His voice was raspy and quiet and he's been taking a lore more pain killers just to nullify the affects of the Z-Drive.

Jinx leaned her head down and rested her face in his soft dread nuzzling him. "Silly silly boy.", Jinx said to herself, "Boy Savior...more like Boy Martyr.", Jinx chuckled to herself. Yet the words that came out of her mouth and her hold onto Ekko even tighter. Is that all he was to these insects, a Martyr, someone to be sacrificed so that they can continue their mission. EKKO WAS THE ONLY REASON THIS MISSION EVEN MATTER, IF IT WASN'T FOR HIM THESE BUGS WOULD'VE BEEN CRUSHED A LONG TIME AGO!!!

Jinx looked down at Ekko's relaxed face and her anger started to dissipate. He worked so hard, he cared so much, loved so much, if it wasn't for him, she would still be lurking in the darkness surviving off of pure hatred but it was Ekko that saved her from that hell. He was her Light, her Angel, her Savior, Her everything, he loved her so much, he loved her despite her believing no one could, always caring, always hoping, always loving.

Jinx's hold on Ekko tightened even more and she closed her eyes, basking in this moment, trying and wishing to take in all of him.

"I Love you.", she whispered into his locks "I swear, I'll protect you....I won't let you become a Martyr....I won't", Jinx stated with nothing short of determination.

Firelight AU inspired by @starry-nights12 and @letters-to-rosie

[dougielombax]

Mollusks, whelks and limpets, oh My!

[just-some-trans-nobody]

If the slot for the day 22 of the monster stories is still open could we get eldritch abomination? Maybe they could be giving their lover weird mind bending gifts? (And could it be sfw/fluff please)

December Christmas Monster Stories

Dec 22.) Eldritch horror x reader

I am so sorry about how late this is. It's short but I hope you enjoy it.

No warnings juat fluff. Minors don't interact

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Having an eldritch monstrosity for a partner was intresting to say the least. They could never truly show you their true form as you would go insane from the sight, they often stayed as a inky black glob with writhing tentacles covered in too many eyes. This is apparently the closest to their form they can get without breaking your mind. Sometimes they take on a more hominoid shape. Though you didn't mind the little blob form, it honestly looked a little like an octopus, the ones with short arms and a big body. 

They always want to cuddle. The cuddles are nice but the black goo they leave behind isn't very appreciated, it stains everything.

Human holidays were of interest to them though they couldn't get a proper understanding of them. You gifted them things like the tasty morsels they love so much, the tasty morsels being marshmallows. Or audio books they had been wanting to listen to while you were busy. They got you an orb that warps the room it's in if left uncovered and a vase that whispers the secrets of the dead. 

Strange but they looked so happy giving you the gifts. They said the room looked much more homie after the orb had warped everything lightly before you had covered it back up. It made you wonder what their home looked like.

The rest of the night was spent cuddling while watching silly Christmas movies. Their favorite being a nightmare before Christmas, they chitter whenever jack sings. 

On the bookshelf sat the vase whispering facts about forgotten holiday traditions. You were pleasantly surprised by it. 

[ms-scarletwings]

Every Dredge Aberration (2023), Part 14

Collapsed Viperfish

Encyclopedia #157

Aberrant form of viperfish

Description:

A rejection of the light - or a return to the ways of the deep?

Comment: Well then. I was content to assume the former on my own. After all, many deep-dwelling fish can endure a horrific strain from a quick ascension to the surface, but no, I was denied that peace of mind by the second half of the description. It is harsher learning that to some, the Deep’s ways are a full-body prolapse.

How to catch: Much the same as the previous entry. Abyssal rod, open sea. Simple enough.

Skeletal Moonfish

Encyclopedia #158

Aberrant form of moonfish

Description:

Chittering bones still operate a ghostly body impossibly devoid of organs.

Comment: And yet they stay bound in a new ghostly skin. Imagine if the organs were all unharmed, merely now transparent to the eye. Or don’t, the fish is every bit the same seeming abomination.

How to catch: I admit with no reservation that this (and the one below) is a fish I stooped to baiting out and using atrophy for over scouring for many natural spawn points. They aren’t impossible to find, just few and far between, and especially tricky to cast in. See, moonfish are one of the more dangerous quarries to seek, combining the fact that they are strictly nocturnal and only found in the open ocean. An underwhelming challenge for the experienced angler, it still remains hazardous to linger so far out in the night’s fog if you consider yourself still wet behind the ears in this place. Mechanically, you’ll only need an oceanic rod to pull them up. Keep your wits about you and your lights on.

Beaked Moonfish

Encyclopedia #159

Aberrant form of moonfish

Description:

A rocky body that bears the scars and scratches of things from below. A crushing beak, a tool of its own deep terror.

Comment: Letting you know that the maximum size of this specimen can top out at about a meter and a half long. It speaks volumes to the strength of this animal to be able to swim on with all the added weight.

How to catch: ^^^

Congealed Rattail

Encyclopedia #160

Aberrant form of

Description:

The flesh of this deep dweller has turned to a thick ooze, secreting an oily gel that covers its entire body.

Comment: Probably with the texture of hagfish slime. A revolting change, but one that cold serve a new survival advantage against predation. Except from us, of course.

How to catch: Drag them forth from the very deepest corners of the wild sea. This creature knows nothing but the pitch black of the hadal zone.

Charred Sunfish

Encyclopedia #161

Aberrant form of

Description:

Scales chipped and flaking, its crackling body is hot to the touch.

Comment: That’s a crispy pancake right there. Does the deep burn? Perhaps this is a similar case to the ailment of aberrant tarpons we saw before in the twisted strand. Sometimes their boons make the kiss of the sun… unwelcoming to their new bodies. A common mola would frequently bask at the surface as a natural behavior, and such habits may die hard.

How to catch: True to name, the ocean sunfish prefers the open waters, and sunlight. All you will need is an oceanic rod and definitely your spyglass to track a good spot down.

Glaring Sunfish

Encyclopedia #162

Aberrant form of ocean sunfish

Description:

Ocular tongues watch from socketed mouths. Each offers its own form of deep pity.

Comment: It’s like looking into the face of an angel… an emissary of the fathomless, gazing with sympathy to the unworthy. Why? Because they’ve seen what’s coming.

How to catch: ^^^

[xinnosinn]

꒦꒷♡ Traitor's Demise ♡꒷꒦

SYNOPSIS:: Helldiver Rothen seeks refuge in an exterminated terminid hole but falls into the grasp of the seductive Brood Lord. Tempted by forbidden pleasures, Rothen must choose between surrendering to desire or reclaiming his lost valor and ideals.

Master List Category:: Helldivers -> Rothen is a defender of democracy.

Content Tags/Warnings:: [MINORS DO NOT INTERACT] Helldivers, Helldivers 2, Rothen, Tyranny, Slow burn, Alien Race, Aphrodisiac, Hallucinations, Tentacles, Kissing, Near Death, Rescue, Conflict, War, Gore, Oneshot

Word Count:: 1,677

From the heavens descend the drop pods of the Helldivers as they deploy into the chaos of battle. Upon their landing, the battlefield lay in utter devastation. Swarms of Terminids emerged from the depths of the barren terrain. The deafening sound of gunfire and explosions, cries of battle brethren and sistren, and chittering screeches of the insectoids echoed in the ears of the Helldivers as they advanced into the warzone with liberty on their sleeves. All except for one.

Rothen is a Helldiver who devoted valiant effort to studying the insectoids and developing the tactics necessary to combat them. In regards to his personnel file, he was more than equipped to eradicate the vermin that threatened democracy. Rothen was amid the battle, surrounded by bodies of comrades laid to rest in pieces, the metallic bite of blood hanging heavy in the air, and the abominations that desecrated everything in their path. He found himself gripped by primal instinct—an instinct not for combat, but for survival.

No amount of preparation could have instilled within him the guts required to confront the waves of hellspawn which were fast approaching.

"Rothen! Snap out of it and move up with the rest of the squad!" Bellowed his corporal. Rothen remained motionless, ensnared by the grip of war.

"Rothen, I thought I told you—!" Before the corporal could finish he was suddenly tackled by a warrior Terminid, which knocked the weapon from his hands. Desperately punching and pounding his fist atop its armored exterior, escape proved to be futile.

"C-corpral-" Then passed a split second, it happened. Rothen watched as the man was viciously slammed into the ground, succumbing to the crushing weight of the beast. His ribs shattered causing his innards to splatter outward, as what remained intact writhed, a gruesome display of war's brutality.

Conflicted between duty and instinct, Rothen abandons his weapon and bolts in the opposite direction of the advancing Helldivers who vocalize what may be their last words, all in the name of honor for the fallen and liberty.

"I can't do this, I won't!" he repeats frantically, his voice choked with fear and uncertainty.

With the will to fight absent in his spirit, he plans to evade conflict by taking shelter in what appears to be an exterminated Terminid tunnel. Gradually he regains his senses whilst trying to quell his hyperventilation. Removing his helmet he frantically attempts to wipe away the corporal's blood from his uniform and halt the echo of his death in his mind.

As the semblance of calm settles, he turns to behold the Brood Lord looming above him. Before he can muster a response, he's restrained by the creature's formidable clawed grasp, to which he's lifted from the ground.

"God, w-what did I do…" Rothen falls unconscious, his brain deprived of oxygen, and his body exhausted from momentous strain.

As the hours tick by, Rothen slowly begins to regain consciousness. He's draped over the shoulder of the creature that discovered him in the Terminid tunnel. Startled by its immense size he's carried approximately three meters above the ground.

In a panic, he makes a dire attempt to strike the Brood Lord. Recalling the corporal's death he ceases his futile struggle, preparing himself mentally for an inevitable end.

As the journey progresses, Rothen finds himself entranced by the surreal surroundings that unfold before him. Beneath his fingers the creature's skin softly glows, synchronizing with the bioluminescent glow of their surroundings.

"What is this place…? He murmurs, his curiosity piqued.

Underneath the Brood Lord's imposing stature, the ground squirms and writhes, driven by colossal veins pulsating with an array of Terminid strains coursing through the expansive cavity concealed beneath the earth. Towering pillars of fluid-spewing flesh throb in a rhythmic manner, which serve as the foundational structures of the birthing chamber, where various strains of the democracy-defiling plague are bred.

As Rothen is carried through this new environment, he feels a warm, humid mist enveloping his being as they venture deeper, it's thick and permeates the air.

This landscape is unlike anything Rothen had ever studied, it was both intriguing and unsettling. Unknown to him, the mist that enveloped his body harbored microscopic particles that were saturated with hallucinogenic and aphrodisiac compounds, which would gradually begin to take hold, stirring within him a prodding desire he'd never felt.

"What is it you are…" The creature's voice reverberates deeply, shattering the heavy silence and catching Rothen off guard. He is ensnared in a trance that discerns the language that is being spoken.

"How are you talking-" Rothen's words are abruptly cut off as he finds himself forcefully pinned against the wall, his wrist gripped tightly by the Brood Lord's slimy appendages. With swift and deliberate movements, the creature begins removing the armored sheathings from Rothen's uniform with its claws.

"I asked of you… what is it you are?" The Brood Lord's voice carries a stern edge as it inspects the Helldiver's body, scrutinizing each limb with curiosity.

"I'm human…" Rothen murmurs, feeling a heat rise to his face as he becomes the focus of the Brood Lord's scrutiny.

"I figured… what is it you are called?" The creature inquires, seeking Rothen's name.

Rothen's nerves from the battle above ground began to dissipate, this interaction between him and this being was oddly comforting.

"My name is Rothen." He says, sweat beading upon his brow as the dense gases of the birthing chamber begin to affect his body and perception—hence why he is numbed to the presence of the towering creature before him.

Radiating an aura of authority, it has a muscular and robust form, boasts broad shoulders, and its skin is covered in thick chitinous armor plates. It stands three meters tall, with four arms, panoramic eyes, sharp mandibles, and tentacle appendages protruding from its back.

"I-I'm Rothen…" The tentacles keep Rothen pinned to the wall. Further examining him the creature begins to strip him until he is bare. Rothen's face is flustered, and his cock is standing tall, throbbing with uncharted desire, feeling exposed, and vulnerable.

"I'm sorry…" Rothen's words falter, his voice trembling as he succumbs further to the effects of the gas. His breathing becomes a labored pant, each inhale and exhale strained as his surroundings warp and twist around him. Sensations amplify, every touch and movement sending shivers throughout his body as he struggles to maintain a grip on reality.

"For your sake… Indulge I shall." The creature meets Rothen's gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between them, each aware of the shifting disposition of power in this strange encounter.

With a deliberate gesture, the creature releases Rothen's arms, yet they remain ensnared by the unyielding grip of the birthing chamber's walls. The creature becomes more invasive in its examination with an unsettling intensity.

Caressing Rothen's drool-ridden lips on a mouth that hung open, his swollen and aching nipples, and a cock flustered with red and the need for divulgence.

The tentacles seemed to multiply as they were now adorned atop his body, slowly sucking his nipples, gently caressing his cock, and slicking the entrance to his insides. Rothen was consumed by this intense surge of sensation.

"More-… I beg of you." Rothen daringly requested. These thick pulsating tentacles suctioned upon the cusps of Rothen's perky pecs, and found their way between Rothen's supple ass, and around his throbbing cock, slicking every area with a thick sap. This elicited from Rothen both pleasure and fear as he was unable to resist.

With vulgarity Rothen's soft puffy nipples were sucked, his ass was spread open and gently prodded by the tentacles of the creature, his cock slick with a mix of precum and excretes of sap from the being's tentacles as they slid up and down amongst his shaft.

His gaze was still held by the creature before him, he was in the grasp of perversion, imposed upon by a being that towered amongst him. Spreading his legs, and sticking out his tongue, Rothen offered himself willingly. Rothen became a slut for heresy.

Whimpering and groaning into a kiss Rothen nearly came to a choke, the creature's tongue plunged down his throat, seeping slops of saliva which overflowed from the corner of his mouth.

Transcending to a forbidden realm of pleasure, Rothen's insides are suddenly stretched by an appendage other than the Brood Lord's tentacles… This creature before him was a male variant, equipped with a prehensile member that would grasp and cling to the walls of Rothen's insides.

Rothen's mind was engulfed by a whirlwind of transpiring sensations that teetered on the edge of utmost limit. Surges of pleasure were mingled with a tinge of unsettle as his consciousness became overwhelmed with ecstasy. His thoughts began to fragment into a kaleidoscope of emotion.

Rothen presumed this to be his inevitable end. However, hope emerged as a squadron tasked with extracting Rothen and samples arrived.

The squadron without hesitation unleashed a relentless barrage of firepower upon the Brood Lord, their weapons blazing as they targeted the towering creature. Emitting a deafening screech of agony, the Brood Lord's massive form began writhing in pain.

The sound jolted Rothen from his trance-like state, his senses overwhelmed by the excruciating pain as the creature's appendages began to excavate themselves from his insides. Each movement sends waves of paralyzing agony coursing through his body, leaving him gasping for breath and unable to move.

His body was now splayed on the ground unconscious, covered in sweat, saliva, sap, and his cum.

"Rothen!!!-… Oh God-…" The sergeant exclaimed, his expression construed with disgust and rage as he looked upon Rothen's weakened state. He then carried Rothen and had everyone evacuate the birthing chamber which was rigged to explode.

As they hurried to the extraction point, medical assistance awaited them within the safety of the ship, ready to tend to Rothen's injuries.

Rothen was now in the safety of the Helldiver's custody. Unbeknownst to him, his actions would soon subject him to trial, as his deviation from the fight would be perceived as heresy, the greatest threat to Super Earth's democracy.

Ending Notes:: So uhm- I'm not really a big fan of Helldivers but the different enemy hordes fascinate me. I wanted to try my hand in creating and experimenting with a new Terminid creature known as the Brood Lord. I also am working on updating my fanfiction layouts for Tumblr. :3

Tag List:: "no users yet, comment if you want be added!!"

Disclaimer:: Please do not plagiarize or reupload my work. <3 Thank you!!"

[miss-celestia13]

Communing with dragons 🐉

"I know. Time slips through our fingers, love. We -"

Drogon's insistent chittering grew more frenzied. It poured into every crevice of her mind as it pierced the air while she spoke. His colossal body quivered with an urgency that soon filled her own being as if it could not be contained, and Rhaegal mirrored his brother's unease. With a quaking hand, she gestured for Jon to hush as she focused in on her dragon bond, their connection pulsating with a fiery intensity she hadn't known was possible. A torrent of images flooded her mind so fast she was dizzy. A plethora of confusing sensations threatened to overwhelm her senses as Drogon snarled, low and lethal.

Flashes of the battle from Rhaegal's and Drogon's eyes clashed, both dragons seething with a blazing fury borne from blood, magic, and battle, and it fed into her own waning ire, loosening the hold she had on herself. Beneath the enshrouded clouds, sinister shadows coalesced. A malevolent presence lurked amidst its darkest depths and stoked an inferno of rage within their mighty mounts. Whatever awaited them in the darkness, worrying even them. Shaking her head as though to dispel the nightmarish whirlwind of visions, she cut her eyes to Jon.

"The dragons can sense something brewing. Can you not feel it?"

Jon frowned, looking at his hands curled around Rhaegal's spikes, and she wanted to smile as his well-worn, brooding expression crossed his weary visage; a flickering flame danced in her chest as Rhaegal's mind pulled back from hers. Drogon swung his head from side to side, catching the scent of something far below and loosing an iracund growl as she waited, hating every second as Jon summoned his newly forged bond with the green dragon. Time crawled by as she held her breath, unblinking as she memorized the beautiful sight of him leaning into his Targaryen blood, and her own blood heated when Jon's head jerked to her, nodding as she smiled grimly.

"I can't discern its nature, but it reeks of their magic." Her husband said, voice thin as it clouded the chill air, and her heart plummeted into a bottomless pit of despair. An icy dread constricted her every breath, smothering her hopes in its relentless embrace. Bracing herself, she fortified her will and self-belief, drawing from Drogon's unwavering fury and strength as she prepared to confront the horrors awaiting them.

"We will not face it head-on, not yet, at least. But we have to find out what it is. Are you certain that you're both alright?"

His gaze fixated on her abdomen again as if he could see through the soft fur and hard metal cloaking their babe from winter's wrath. Anguish surged through her veins. It nearly consumed her, but she mustered the strength to nod. Drogon's majestic wings beat like thunderclaps, jolting her as the wind carried her whisper to Jon, "Together?"

With his nod of affirmation, she urged Drogon into a rapid, sharp descent as Jon did the same, her body suspended in a moment of sobering weightlessness as she clung to his spikes, fingers white-knuckled. Each passing second felt like an eternity, every too-quick pulse of her heart a countdown to their imminent demise if all went wrong, and they were a force of nature, unstoppable and untamed, hurtling straight into the heart of the battle. Twin pairs of immense wings unfurled in perfect synchrony, just as she could make out the decaying faces of the soulless army. She arced left while Jon sailed right. Rhaegal's flames engulfed her periphery as he and Jon carved a scorching path through the writhing mass of lifeless bodies advancing upon Winterfell.

Following their lead, Drogon's scales shimmered as he carried out her will, his deafening roar tearing through the night as he incinerated a swath of those skeletal abominations. The encroaching darkness, thick as tar, appeared impenetrable as they neared, a maleficent caul that wanted to suppress their very existence. Bolts of cobalt lightning fractured the obsidian veil, illuminating the marauding storm but revealing nothing to their paranoid eyes, and the twisting, menacing darkness whispered of their impending doom if they could not keep it at bay. Doubts pelted her, but she punched them aside; sheer force of will had brought her thus far, and it would not fail her now.

I just liked this part, that’s all 🥰

[witchermonstermayhem]

Witcher Monster MAYhem 2023 approaches!

Rules:

Anyone can participate.

Any media form is allowed (art, fic, gifs, music, whatever).

You can participate however much or as little as you want, no pressure to complete all the prompts.

You can post your work anywhere on the internet, Tumblr, Ao3, etc.

Tag potential triggers and NSFW accordingly.

If you want to be counted as an official participant and have the chance to be featured on the blog, post your content on tumblr during the month of May. You can still use the prompt list after May ends.

Don't worry if you cannot post your creation on the day of the prompt, as long as it's during May, it counts.

To make it easier for you to fill all 31 prompts, here are some special rules:

You can use just one prompt of the day or combine prompts of the same day (but this counts just as one fill) or you can combine prompts of different days. (If you combine, for example, 2. vampire, 4. cruel claws, 8. full moon, this counts as 3 prompt fills.)

For every new work that you have created for the event, you can post one old work of yours that fits a prompt. They count like new works! (Please tag old works with #old)

You may combine a prompt with a fill for another event!

I can’t guarantee that every single work will be featured but I’ll try to reblog as many as I can.

To increase your chances of being featured here, tag your post with the event name and the prompt of the day that you used.

example 1: #witchermonstermayhem2023, #witchermonstermayhemday1, #too many toes

example 2: #witchermonstermayhem2023, #alt. breathing fire #old

You can also @ the blog, @witchermonstermayhem

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask!

Please reblog and tag your friends who might be interested in the event. Thank you!

Have fun with the prompts! (see below)

@witcherwheeloftheyear

@witcherrarepaircommentexchange

@witchersummercamp

@witcher-bows-and-arrows

And here the prompts as text:

WitcherMonsterMAYhem 2023 Prompts:

1. Too many toes | myriapod | centipede

2. Fearsome fangs | striga | vampire

3. Wicked wings | dragon | wyvern

4. Cruel claws |  gruesome gashes | scar

5. Nefarious necrophages | ghoul | cemetaur

6. Terrifying tentacles | zeugl | kraken

7. Vicious venom | basilisk | paralysed

8. Haunting howls | werewolf | full moon

9. Something wicked in the water | bubbles | drowner

10. Eery eyes | bloodshot | glowing in the dark

11. Hairy horror | yeti | berserker

12. Searing stings | sharp spikes | puncture wound

13. Shimmering scales | mermaid | mesmerised

14. Scary scratching | nasty noises | reverberating roar

15. Clever camouflage | ambush predator | eyehead

16. Creepy chittering | insectoid | metamorphosis

17. Terrible talons | griffin | chernabog

18. Horrible horns | unicorn | impaled

19. Acid attack | archespore | ants

20. Ghastly ghost | hell hound | nightwraith

21. Ancient abomination | leshen | crones

22. Sexy sirens | succubus | seduction

23. Smelly swamps | kikimore | will-o'-the-wisp

24. Treacherous trap | sand monster | grabbed

25. Menacing maw | swallowed | selkiemore

26. Towering trolls | nasty nekkers | grim giants

27. Duplicitous doppler | despicable doppelgänger | shapeshifting 

28. Rare reptiloid | ferocious fish | absurd amphibian

29. Deadly demon | possessed | diabolic djinn

30. Beautiful bruxa | bloodsucking | black bat

31. Cave creature | barbegazi | knocker

Alternative Prompts (alt.)

If there’s a prompt above you don’t feel inspired or comfortable doing, you can switch it out with any one of these alternatives!

Growl

Run

Breathing fire

Scent of sulfur

Blood-curdling cry

Forked tongue

Hide

Undead

Burrow

Turned to stone

Silver sword

Don't kill it!

I hate monsters

Toss a coin

Monster friend

[dungeonbent]

( An excerpt from Learned Complacency: A Record of the Surreal and Zoologically Dubious in the Dungeon of Skaia. )

... the walls which gleam with the frost of a thousand ghosts, screaming in voices which I can scarcely believe to be their own. It is here where we first encountered the previous inhabitants of the City.

Or what they have become.

Now the streets of once grand Derse embrace me as a lover's scorn; coldly and with sharp angles that tear every wound asunder. Its writings still yield nothing to me but their mysteries and in every darkened corner there is an abominable whisper which I have heard all of my life.

If you are reading these lonely words buried so far in a sea of paper and needlessness then you have been seized with the same affliction as I. You are sick with curiosity and the symptoms, I fear, may soon take your life.

You do not feel that you are sick however. You do not feel the yawning void in your throat. You do not yet know that when you speak you are trying to sink your teeth into something.

You desire too much. You will never be truly sated. Yet, still, I will feed you this one solitary morsel.

As I pen these words the sky grows ever more black. What might have been stars blink out one by one. We feel the chill sinking between our molars and what little remains of our collective pride. And, should what I'm about to do works as intended, I will soon be left with that same pride as I walk into the maw of all that chitters and writhes and haunts these halls that soon will bury me home.

So to you who have read this far and expected the triumphant end- you who have hoped to learn how to survive this ugly gash in the soil- I offer nothing.

This is where stars die.

(Each page is worn with the thumbprints belonging to someone in love and heavily annotated, except for this single passage, which bares no mark upon its pristine surface.)

[muchelburstenstein]

Adventures of You: Generations

(Content Warning: Burst)

You wake up in a cold, sterile room. As you gather your wits, eyes adjusting to the light, the straps biting into your wrists and ankles tell you you’re strapped to a vertical slab, the cool metal against your back making your nipples stiffen awkwardly. Looking around, you see the room is full of other women of all races and sizes.

Your head throbs as you cast your thoughts back, but are met only with frustrated disappointment, unable to remember anything that happened before this moment. Your brain only dimly feeds you the knowlege that this isn’t normal, not where you’re supposed to be.

A door whispers open, and all of you turn to see a man as he enters, wearing a biohazard suit, grinning cockily, safe within his protective clothing. He holds some strange creature in his arms, the thing chittering, repeatedly trying to leap from it’s captor’s clutches.

Tenderly, almost lovingly, the person in his vividly colored suit places the bizarre thing in front of one of the girls, and leaves without a word as you all ask for an explanation, or call for help fruitlessly. Silence falls as the door seals once more, and all eyes turn to the bizzare thing scuttling on the ground, nearing the trapped person he had placed before.

Whimpering in fear, she reflexively tries to retreat, to move away from the thing on the floor before her, but the straps and slab behind the poor woman prevent any form of meaningful movement. You can do nothing but watch, horror mounting, as the monster latches onto the helpless girl’s waist.

She erupts in screams, throwing her head back and shaking as the phallic tail swings around, brutally penetrating her depths. She shudders and convulses, fruitlessly trying to buck her inhuman rapist off of her as the violating organ slides further and further within. Unable to look away, you see the member that just entered the girl widen at its base, the monster letting out high-pitched squeaks as the bulge slides down the tube, nearing its victim’s opening. The cries for help increase in pitch and devolve into wordless screams as her lips stretch around this wider point, another one already traveling down the tube penetrating the distraught girl’s body.

This lasts for some time, everyone watching in silent disgust and horror at the disturbing scenario playing out before them. But at long last, the final bulge passes through the helpless girls delicate lips. The monster then begins to withdraw, and thrust in once more. In and out, in and out, picking up the pace as the victim it was latched to pleaded for it to stop, begged for it to just leave her alone.

After a short time, slamming itself as deep as it can reach one last time, you see the thing shudder. Wet noises come from between her legs as she groans in despair and disgust, and after depositing whatever it was injecting deep into the trapped victim’s sex, it falls with a damp thud to the floor, dead.

As the creature’s victim sobs quietly, some sort of thick, green-tinted liquid oozes from the raped girl’s body, and you start piecing things together. The bulges must have been eggs. And whatever had just been pumped into her vulnerable womb must have been its seed.

You’d just watched this poor thing be impregnated against her will.

The traumatized prisoner is sobbing, trying to calm herself after the violation, until she lets out a few grunts, arching her back slightly. After a few moments of that, she starts screaming, tears running down her face. Cracking noises echo around the room, muffled by the flesh of her violated womb. You realize the eggs are hatching inside of her, the little abominations thrusting and breaking against the walls of their tiny prisons. You imagine how horrendous that must feel, having your nightmarish rapist’s offspring hatching within your belly, like you’re little more than a glorified incubator.

Sweat runs down the helpless victim’s body as her belly swells quickly. The girl won’t stop screaming, clearly in unrivaled agony, the rapidly swelling flesh of her belly thrashing, trying and failing to keep up with the monsters growth and movement within her. In no time at all the desperate pregnant girl expands to looking a tiny bit over full term, the flesh of her gravid orb looking tight, sore. But, mercifully, the growth stops here. So too does the movement, the mound of flesh from her midsection now smooth and firm, almost shining with how tightly it’s been drawn over her straining, life-filled uterus.

Gulping in breath, occasionally grunting, the pregnant victim joined the rest of you in staring at her gravid belly. A minute goes by. Two, as her expression becomes more strained. Three, as sweat pours down her face and she visibly trembles.

Then, her mouth locks in a grimace, clearly in indescribable pain, so intense she’s unable to even scream. All that comes out is a grunt as her body thrusts forward, a huge bulge pressing out from the otherwise taut orb.

It happens again, and again. She calls out to you all, “Help me, please! They’re coming out, I don’t want to give birth!!!” The words are rushed, harsh, squeezing them between brutal thrusts from the vile monstrosities she had gestated involuntarily.

There’s nothing any of you can do. Mouths agape at the terrible specticle unfolding before you, unable to look away, so stunned that even encouraging words failed you. The circle of prisoners watched, silently, as the rape-baby filled victim strained and sobbed with pain, back arching harshly, ankles and wrists pulling against the restraints, pulled forward harshly again and again under the relentless efforts of her children.

It felt like it lasted forever, this nightmare unfolding before you all. But in reality, after only a few moments, the poor thing found another handful of words, a raspy shriek bellowing; “THEY’RE KILLING ME! OH GOD THEY’RE KILLING ME!!!” Then, with a terrible, stomach-tuning sound, you see her gravid orb tear open.

Amniotic fluid pours out, her panicked breathing slowing rapidly, the wound clearly mortal. Five creatures, identical to their horrible father, tumble from her soon-to-be-corpse. But there’s a problem. Within the room, there’s at least nineteen other females. Turning, what you presume to be its head twitching back and forth as the tail twitched, stiffenening as it detects all of the viable hosts nearby, one of the monsters turns toward you. Your breath catches, heart skipping a beat as you pay it doesn’t notice you.

Whatever mercy you call for either doesn’t hear you, or does not care, and the newborn beast leaps forward, latching tightly around your waist.

Congratulations, dear. You’ve been chosen as the next involuntary host.

You scream, trying to get away, but have nowhere to go. Within seconds, you feel the massive, lethal phallus teasing the entrance to your body, and shortly after, it catches on the rim of your opening. The monster pushes deep, making every inch of your feminine tunnel ache, quickly filling you until the tip presses urgently against your cervix.

What you and the others didn’t realize was it didn’t penetrate the first victim’s womb. You shudder in raw agony as the thick bulge of the eggs begins to push into your tunnel, and then start screaming, along with the other four girls being impregnated, as the egg slams against your cervix, forcing it to slowly spread through brute force.

One… then two… then three… each egg sits like a lead weight in your defenseless womb, and you know this is the end, even as you scream and thrash, trying to fight it. There’s no getting out. This creature is going to rape you pregnant, and its babies are going to tear their way out of you as you bleed and scream in agony.

Five… Six… Seven… Apparently the second generation are better breeders than the first, as by the time your rapist is finished, ten eggs have been rammed through your aching cervix, deep into your body. As you struggled to wrap your head around the inevitable, the beast begins to thrust deep into you, in and out, time and again with increasing speed and urgency. You lean heavily forward, sweating and gritting your teeth, holding back a moan as you’re violated, waiting for what you knew to be rapidly approaching.

You aren’t disappointed. Your rapist lets out a squeak, its entire body convulsing, and then it releases its thick, deadly seed. You grit your teeth harder, the warm, sticky substance burning like acid inside your sensitive parts, oozing steadily into the mouth of your womb, successfully fertilizing egg after burster egg inside you.

It’s done. You’re pregnant. These rape babies are going to grow inside of you, and then they’re going to rip your pregnant belly open, and there’s nothing you can do but let them grow nice and big and strong, your body eagerly gestating the abominations that will kill you as you birth them.

It’s not fair.

You can almost feel the eggs being fertilized, they seem to shift as they each come to life. All of you are crying, the victims knowing this is the calm before the storm, and the remaining survivors knowing they will be next.

A brief time passes as you wait, the buildup insufferable. Part of you wishes it would just start, wanting to get this nightmare over with instead of waiting for it to start. You regret it immediately, moaning as the sound of eggs hatching within your bodies ripples through the air. The feeling of your murderous inhuman babies ripping from their shells, floating freely inside you, even as your muscles ache to accommodate them, is perverse and wrong, makes your body feel tainted, disgusting. As the last one hatches, they’re already starting to thrash against their constraints, causing sharp pains as they slam against the prison of your flesh, making you cry out for mercy, for release.

The pressure is ever building, steadily mounting, making you desperate to find something else to focus on as your body struggles to accommodate the rapid growth. You look at the other mothers-to-be, as they try to ignore what’s happening to their own bodies, and you see the flesh of their bellies twisting and shifting as their young thrash about. You look at the ones not impregnated yet, and see them staring at the doomed, terrified.

It dawns on you that some of the unmolested prisoners have their frightened gazes locked on you. Your eyes drift down to your own increasingly pregnant body, watching the swollen orb of your fertile body ripple and bulge due to your children’s cruel movement within. You shake your head in a futile denial as you swell quickly with unwanted children. You can’t be just another example, just another victim of another story. You can’t be about to burst, not like this.

Inexorably, you swell until your appearance matches that of a woman slightly past full term. The movement within slows, then stops, the children building up energy for their fatal delivery.

What the now-dead girl didn’t convey is that the pressure doesn’t end. It only builds, aching, until you feel ready to pop. You don’t even know how long it’s been since the movement ended, the agonizing sensation of unbearable fullness from inside you is so strong. You’re panting, sweating, waiting for what you dread, but know is coming nonetheless. Somehow it still catches you off guard when a feeling like getting punched from inside strikes, forcing your whole body forward, back painfully arching as you release a pained grunt.

It’s time…

They thrust brutally against your skin, and you’re too tired from your body supporting and nurturing your children combined with the emotional and physical trauma you’ve endured to fight or resist, while the pain is too severe to even scream. Sharp pains radiate across your entire body, the straining, pulling pain reaching all the way around your fecund mound, pulling at your back, threatening to tear the muscles along your spine.

Your babies are strong. Already you can feel your womb beginning to split under the unyielding, merciless assault from your rapist’s children. One of the other girls erupts in a spray of blood, belly splitting down the middle, a massive, ragged vertical gash giving her slightly smaller children room to go tumbling from her destroyed uterus. Another one lets loose right next to you, a disgusting tearing sound matching a spray of pressurized crimson as she tearfully begs to be spared, pleads with her uncaring children for mercy. Another girl screams, apologizing to everyone. “I CAN’T HOLD THEM ANY LONGER! I’M SORRY!” Her swollen belly is punctured by a hard, sharp limb, blood gently oozing from the wound as she stiffens with a terrified gasp. “I’m sorry…” she whispers, a final tear leaking from her eye. Then a brutal thrust from another of her abominations rips her wide open.

You barely even register the screams of the other, unimpregnated women. They plead and beg and cry as, one by one, they too are raped full of deadly monsters, sentenced to the same fate as the others.

The same fate as you.

Another painful thrust makes you gag in unbearable agony as you feel more than hear your womb rupturing. The thrusting grows into a frenzy, your entire body convulsing under the pain, the pressure as your uterus is devastated, your abdomen straining, bruising, and then...

The pressure grows far too strong for your body to bear any longer. A stabbing, piercing, dire pain. Your skin is torn open from inside, the agonizing fire dying quickly, replaced by numbness. You’re surprised you can still feel your lifeblood gushing down your front as your tender flesh is ripped in a ragged, vertical gash. You can feel your horrible offspring tumbling from your body in a hot flood of inhuman flesh, blood, and amniotic fluid.

But you only feel cold as shock sets in. Exhaustion begins to envelop you in a soft pillow of sleep, and the music you hear as darkness engulfs you are the screams of the other girls as they’re impregnated with your deadly grandchildren…