#fear and hunger monster

[possiblylando]

An Analysis on the meaning of each Moonscorched Contestant in Termina.

It comes with the territory; Discussions of Sexual Content Additionally, Spoilers for Termina. CHAUGNAR; Abella

Chaugnar is one of the more unusual moonscorched forms as unlike other Moonscorched forms it doesn't seem to share much with Abella herself. Chaugnar takes the form of a Large Masculine humanoid with a Mutilated Earless Elephant head. It's skin seems almost scaley in portions, Like it's been callused. The lower half of Chaugnar is the most obvious parallel in the design. Abella lives a more masculine life for the 1940s. Due to be a mechanic she's in much better shape than many other contestants. Notably being the only Female Contestant able to use two handed weapons without issue. I've not encountered anything suggesting Abella to be insecure about her masculinity; which is a bit odd for a Moonscorched form as they tend to embody the traits the original contestant was most insecure about. Chaugnar as a name originates from H.P. Lovecraft Mythos, From a creature of the same name. However it's been confirmed the name Chaugnar is a reference in name alone due to having a similar appearance to Chaugnar from Lovecraft Mythos. So the question stands, Why does Chaugnar have an Elephant's head? Looking at Elephants from a spiritual sense they tend to represent Luck and Prosperity. Which would take on an inverted meaning as Abella is one of the first Contestants to become Moonscorched. Additionally I've seen the theory that Chaugnar's Elephant Head is due to Abella being fused with another version of the Woodsman's "Parasite" which jumps her in Tunnel 7. However Abella still becomes Chaugnar if she's in your party at the Tower or the player waits until Day 4. This could be so that she doesn't have two Moonscorched forms. Depending on how you look at it this could prove or disprove the theory.

Lore - It can't be the Parasite because Abella becomes Chaugnar when she isn't caught by one.

Development - It could be the Parasite because making an entirely new Moonscorched form just for the Tower would take a lot of extra time for an unnecessary feature.

THE GENTLEMAN (THE MAYOR); Henyrk

The Gentleman is one of the more straight forward Moonscorched forms. But also one of the more interesting ones. The Gentleman takes the form of a Large Guard-Esq creature which an unusual head. It's face is twisted to the point you're unable to make out it's expression at any given moment. Additionally it's eyes are so warped it's not clear if they're eyes of secondary mouths replacing them. Put simply the Gentleman is an exaugurated version of Henyrk who's lost a majority of his inhibitions. Unlike Abella it's much more clear why Henyrk Moonscorches so early on in the competition. Henyrk is prone to Paranoia and Panic as seen in the mayor's mansion on Morning 1. The Gentleman retains most of Henyrk's sensibilities but seems unattached to Henyrk's memories. This is a twisted form of how Henyrk views himself. Notably I don't believe the Gentleman to be a bad person. Unlike many other Moonscorched forms he retains an ability to reason and control himself. He won't attack the player unless they directly insult his cooking, One of the only things Henyrk seemed to value himself on. Notably it seems the Gentleman went through several phases in development which are still leftover in the game. Under certain circumstances Marina can be found in the Mayor's mansion having been kidnapped by him. Given what I've previously said about the Gentleman I doubt he would've done anything Sexually Predatory to her as Henyrk doesn't seem like the kind of person who would do something like that. However the same can not be said for the Gentleman's original appearance.

This version of the Gentleman is much more defined demonic appearance, His face showing visible malice and anger. Additionally he can be seen with a Stinger, Similar to the guards in the first game. Clearly this initial design was meant to evoke the Guards. However unlike the Guards who are animalistic, The Gentleman is cruelly aware of his disgusting deeds. I have no doubt this version of the Gentleman would have been a Sexual Predator. Given his design was changed to remove the more crass "implications" (Less Implications more outright statements), Its logical to assume the final version of the Gentleman wouldn't be as disgusting as the original. DYSMORPHIA; Samarie

Dysmorphia takes the form of a tall black feminine creature. Her torso is notably rounded. The flesh around Her face is flayed and pulled back by a metal ring behind her head evoking the imagry of a Halo. Dysmorphia is one of the more interesting Moonscorched forms as she acts less like a monster and more like an awoken form of Samarie. She shares many of the same emotional issues and insecurities as Samarie. Dysmorphia as a name is incredibly straight forward as it refers directly to Samarie's feelings of hatred towards herself. As a recap, Samarie was apart of the Experiments in the 9th circle to contact the old gods. Her time there was torturous and awakened her ability to read minds. She feels ostracized from society and is always afraid of her imitate death due to what happened to her. Notably if she survives Termina she seems to be able to continue living just fine as she's seen to still be stalking Marina. While not explicitly stated it's possible Samarie as a form of Body Dysmorphia. Dysmorphia has a rounder stomach and torso in comparison to Samarie's stick thin body. It's hard to say if this is intentional or not due to Samarie's lack of- really anything in the game. Samarie and Dysmorphia by extension are torn between their self hatred and their need to be able to live as their true selves. As seen in their battle dialog. Player: “You were just a regular person a moment ago...” Dysmorphia: “What is that supposed to mean!? Why must everyone be regular!? Regular this! Regular that! Be normal! YOU CALL ME REGULAR!?” You managed to infuriate Dysmorphia with your persuasion efforts. (+Furious)

She's so blindsided by anyone showing any sort of kindness to her that it's enough to make her question everything she's been doing and planning for, For assumably years. Dysmorphia: “I did all this for her... I had it all ready... But then you come along...AND RUINED IT ALL!” Player: [PERSUADE] “Let's just talk this through. No harm done yet...” Dysmorphia: “Talk!? TALK!? Why would you want to talk to me!? Just look at me!” Player: “What's so weird about wanting to talk?” Dysmorphia: “...” Dysmorphia is clearly hesitating... “This is just a trick, isn't it...? You don't care about me...” (+Hesitation) I'll talk about it more in detail when I get to the Mastermind but it's also seen with Dysmorphia. Moonscorching seems less like complete monsterfication and more like an Evolution/Awakening. It's quite literally stated by Dysmorphia. Player: “What do you mean 'radiating'?”

Dysmorphia: “Like a moth! I'm finally close to bloom! A hairy moth in the night!” MONSTER; Caligura

The Monster is the most straight forward Moonscorched form. It takes the form of a giant bulbus and warty combination of a Vagina and a Ball sack. This is because Caligura is a bastard. He is a ball sack before he's moonscorched and he's a ball sack after he's moonscorched. Gaining a Vagina mouth represents his lust after women. There is not much depth present in Caligura's moonscorched form. It maintains a portion of Caligura's consciousness but not much. It's only real communication ability is insults and telling the player to choke on it's balls. Semi Unrelated to Monster; One theory I've heard is that Caligura is Samarie's Bio-Dad due to how similar they look. They look even more similar when you look at Beta Caligura in comparison to Samarie.

It's interesting enough to mention due to Monster's otherwise lack of subtly. WEEPING SCOPE; Levi

The Weeping Scope takes on a tall and semi-thin masculine form with an elongated torso. It's head has been replaced with the fleshy barrel of a tank cannon. The remains of Levi's clothes can be seen fused to it's upper torso with a notable lack of visible gentiles despite the lack of clothes. The Weeping Scope represents Levi's worst possible ending. Unlikely others like Dysmorphia and Gentleman who act as evolved forms of their contestants, Weeping Scope is Levi regressed back to his trauma and unable to escape from it. It seems to act entirely on instinct until it has a realization of what it's become. He's been turned into a weapon which can't do anything except kill. Once the player encounters the Scope for the first time it'll fire on them before fleeing. Once it flees it will hide in the Orphanage and become passive to the player unless they directly attack it. Levi is clearly still present within the Scope and still wants to be able to move on from his Trauma but is unable to escape it as he keeps getting dragged back into it. The Scope goes to the Orphanage as despite it being a location Levi was implied to have been abused in, It's the only familiar place he knows in Prehevil. Levi will never be able to fully escape the terrible circumstances of his upbringing as they'll always hang over him. -Second Reading- There's also another possible reading of the Weeping Scope which I'll mention. In this interpretation the Scope acts as an inverted version of the Cocoon. Both forms see the Contestants lose their heads in place of their most notable mutation and lose control over themselves to that mutation. The Cocoon is controlled by the Cocoon, And the Scope is controlled by it's gun. Additionally the reason no gentiles are visible on the Scope is because it doesn't have a dick, It has a Vagina which is hidden by it's pubic hair. Both the Scope and the Cocoon reveal the biggest insecurities of their contestants, Being their birth gender. This reading would make Levi trans. I think it's a valid reading even though it isn't the one I personally ascribe to. The main points against it can be handwaved. That main problem being, Levi was a Child Soldier long before women were allowed to fight in a war. Transphobia exists in the Fear and Hunger universe so it's unlikely they would let it slide. However it's also possible that they didn't care about gender in the slightest so long as they could use a gun and kill the enemy. POCKET CAT; Daan

We all know and [HAVE EMOTIONS PERTAINING TO] Pocket Cat. He's unusual because not only is he special he probably isn't a moonscorched form. He possesses Daan no matter what, The moon's radiation just speeds up the processes. Daan has without question the most cruel backstory in the series. It's almost a guarantee that his life was tampered with by outside forces. To put it simply, Daan was groomed into becoming Pocket Cat. Daan's blank soul definitely makes it easier (A blank soul may even be a requirement for possession) for him to become possessed by Pocket Cat. It's hard to say for certain how Possession works in Funger given we only really see it happen once. In lue of any deeper analysis on the meaning of Daan becoming Pocket Cat, I'd like to bring up something you may not know about. The Pocket Cat Room. If you bring a Joy Mask to the Man under the lamp post you're able to gain access to the Pocket Cat Room. The Pocket Cat Room will change depending on if Daan has been possessed or not. Here are the rooms pre and post possession.

It requires contest of both to fully make sense. In the original room it's been filled up with toys and bags. These are obvious metaphors for Pocket Cat's crimes. Every time we see him with a bag there's a child inside. Each of these bags likely hides a body inside. The way this is presented, Each time a new Pocket Cat is created the slate is wiped clean as they've yet to commit any atrocities. Meaning Pocket Cat as an entity is able to escape any sort of "Karmic Punishment" is the best term I can think to describe it. As seen in Daan's room the outlines of the Sun and Star and still present as he has yet to fully delve into Rher Worship. The body seen within Daan's room likely represent the Baron and Elise. The empty chalk outline could represent how the Baron was able to get up and become Needles. Or it could represent how Elise was daan's only concern in that moment as aside from the blood and police tape the room is blank. If we were encounter another Pocket Cat room in the future while Daan is still pocket cat (Probably won't happen), We'd likely see this room become morphed to fit the original being filled up with more sacks and toys and Pocket Cat's influence becomes deeper. THE MECHANICAL DANCE; Olivia

The Mechanical Dance is a weird one as it's both straight forward and mysterious at the same time. The Mechanical Dance takes the form of a Large metal pyramid with fan slots on it's sides. Attached at the top is a feminine torso in a suit with pauldrons of some sort and long stick arms. The face is completely blank aside from it's eyes. The entirety of the Dance seems to be made out of Metal. The most obvious part is that the Dance has lost it's legs entirely only being able to move via it's pyramid base. Representing Olivia being bound to a wheelchair due to her weak legs. That however is where the most obvious aspects end. Her being apart of the Dance makes some degree of sense as it could be reasons as Olivia wanting to be able to do something she can't usually do. It's hard (but not impossible) to Dance in a wheelchair. It seems the Dance's mannequin like appearance is there to draw attention away from the Humanoid aspects of it and draw attention to the Pyramid. This represents Olivia's fears/insecurities of being unable to escape the shadow of both Relia and her disability. So the Dance itself is secondary to it's mode of transport. Overall, One of the weirdest Moonscorched forms. GIANT; Marcoh

The Giant is another of the more straight forward Moonscorched forms. It takes the form of a large hulking creature with a strange warped black torso covered in eyes and teeth. It's head is comparable to that of a barnacle's tongue. Marcoh's personality is nearly completely absent from the Giant as it's only able to say "GUILTY!". It represents Marcoh's bad ending in which he becomes a brutish monster unable to think and which only acts in Violence. it's singular dialog line suggest the Giant believes everything it's doing is for the great good. However it's hard to say for sure. VALKYRIE; Karin

The Valkyrie is a peak moonscorch as it perfect encompasses Karin as a character and her flaws. The Valkyrie which opposite to it's name takes the form of a large Harpie with thick blonde hair. The bases of it's wings are protected by pauldrons and it's face is covered by a metal blindfold/helmet. It carries a group of Bellend on it's back. there has been a bit of debate as to what the creatures of her back are but they're clearly Bellend.

The Valkyrie's name represents Karin's own opinion of herself. In her mind she's a purveyor of truth and justice, Exposing the evils of the world and making sure those who suffer at it's hand never suffer in vein. Yet in reality her actions have acted to further ostracize the downtrodden by exposing the worst parts of their lives to the world. She's figuratively and literally blinded to the truth as she believes he's carrying lost warriors on her back to save them from death. In reality she's just bringing more Bellend to Prehevil so they can wreck havoc. From a Metaphor Standpoint, My favorite Moonscorched by far. Miro was cooking flames with Valkyrie. JUDGEMENT; Tanaka

Judgement is unusual as it just seems like Tanaka fell through a window. Judgement is another Moonscorched form which acts an awoken form of the initial contestant. Tanaka as much as he's meme'd as the guy who dies first, Is actually a very strong person. As seen in his growth throughout the festival.

If you fight needles after Tanaka is decapitated, Needles is notably damaged. He didn't go down without a fight even this early on. Judgement is Tanaka's logical end point should he never go through his growth. Judgement represents Tanaka breaking the metaphorical Glass ceiling as seen with all the glass in his attacks and the move called "Glass ceiling". It's rather blatant. Judgement still retains Tanaka's memories as seen when you present him with the Crossword puzzle. Player: (Player has Crosswords puzzle) “That sounds familiar. Did you fill this Crosswords puzzle?” Judgement: “What of it? Back when I first arrived here, I lacked the ambition and determination. I would waste my time on this planet on the most useless of things.” Judgement has become obsessed with the Grind. Money makes the world go round and Judgement wants the sun to rise each day so he can continue to grind. COCOON; Marina

The Cocoon is Marina's body which has been bent over backwards and forced to crab walk. It's grown a second pair of arms which it uses to aid in it's mobility. A second head has grown in place of her dick which is connected by a Leash to a large Cocoon made of twisted flesh that has replaced Marina's head. The Cocoon represents Marina's traumas and fears. The Cocoon exposes her biggest secret to the world and makes it one of the only things people are able to see about her. You're only really able to see the Head, The Limbs. And the Cocoon. It's hard to tell if the Cocoon controls the body now, Or if the new head control it. Either way it represents Marina being unable to escape being lead around by her birth gender and the baggage that comes with it. I've heard the theory that the Cocoon contains Domek's corpse due to Marina being found in the church on the final day after his death. Even in death he has an inescapable control over her. The Cocoon is up there with the Valkyrie when it comes to the insight and metaphor it can give us into their respective contestants. MASTERMIND; O'saa

I've saved the Mastermind for last for a reason. The Mastermind without doubt is the single most unusual Moonscorched form in the game. It takes the form of O'saa with a Fungal looking growth replacing his head. a disembodied eyeball floats above it's right hand. SO WHAT THE FUCK? The mastermind more than any other moonscorch proves that moonscorching itself acts as a form of evolution. O'saa has not changed outside his appearance and now inability to speak. The Mastermind will not hunt the player down, They have to engage in battle with it. O'saa does not topple over in pain when he becomes Moonscorched like the other contestants, He sits down and meditates. Alright are you ready for my crackpot theory? Moonscorching is a form of divine enlightenment akin to the throne of ascension in mah'abre. this might sound crazy as you're probably thinking they're nothing like the New Gods we see. However I assure you, They're quite similar. New Gods aren't actually Gods in the literal sense. They're humans who have gained incredible power through the throne. However we see through the new god forms of the first game's protagonist this doesn't automatically come with a new cool form. Take Ragnavldr for example, His New God form is horrific.

He's been hunched over and swallowed by his fur clothes which have begun to take over his entire body. It's much less gruesome than some of the Moonscorched form. But thats because everyone who can ascend in the Dungeon has gone there of their own volition. They're prepared to ascend. Aside from Samarie and O'saa, None of the contestants are at all prepared to enter a form of divine ascension. So their bodies are warped and twisted. They don't have what it takes to ascend to the next form of humanity like the New Gods. It's very possible that the Mastermind and Dysmorphia are incomplete forms of ascension which had yet to fully manifest their true selves. We fight them both soon after they moonscorch so they've had no time to grow accustomed to the green hue. Look at the normal Moonscorched people, None of them have the drive to become true Moonscorched beings like the contestants. While it's probably just for gameplay balance, Notice how we can only absorb souls from the Contestants? Their souls aren't strong enough to ascend via the green hue. Samarie and O'saa have the Radiant and Enlightened souls respectively. We know one's soul matters when it comes to moonscorching because Pocket Cat is able to possess Daan due to his Blank Soul. Rher is the trickster moon god, He doesn't want humans to ascend to godhood. However have you noticed how Rher's servants only try to stop the Girl from Ascending? True Humans can not ascend to godhood via the throne. Only Hybrid Humans can ascend to true godhood. The Girl is born of Le'Garde and Nilvan. A New god and a Human. Alll-Mer is the same. He was the son of a New god and a Human. So what if the Presence of an Old God is enough to impart a form of Divinity onto those receptive to it? The Old Gods we see in Funger 1 are only present for a single boss battle and are only traces. Yet Rher's traces are present for the entire game.

[sotogalmo]

3:47

Monster (moonscorched) from Fear and Hunger Termina, is the same as Heperu from Alien Stage: resembling a penis

(Alnst funger crossover when,,,)

[not-avril]

"Let's have a little one-to-one, shall we?"

[xydo4art]

[arradraws]

Caw, caw... 🐦

[bogleech]

This article actually ate up probably two days of my life if you added up all the hours that went into it, and it still isn't a 100% complete bestiary review.

But it's virtually every creature of note (by my standards) in the game, Fear and Hunger, which demands a bit of a content warning, but I've also actually put the list in order of what I consider the most disturbing, dreadful and nasty of all these monsters. It's just not perfect and your mileage may vary!

If you've been curious about this game's content but not sure you want to see why people make such a big deal out of it, I obviously still don't get too graphic with my descriptions. This is probably the mildest way you could ever still find out all the worst things that can happen to your character.

Plus, you SURELY want to know what this is?!

[mochamoth]

The urge to become-

Creatures..

[harumirart]

My humble contribution to the fear and hunger fandom 🤸 (I'm never drawing 26 characters again in my life 😭) this is available in higher quality as a poster or sticker on my redbubble!

[dovalore]

various monster designs from funger

[wormontwostrings]

this is super self-indulgent

[wiltshiree]

day 4: angel x demon!

[maddymoreau]

Image Source: Click Here

[birdnesthaired]

What inspires me? Cannibalism.

[polyc3phaly]

guys my dogs acting weird ...

[sunlightedcockroach]

Development of my f&h OC moonscorched form (inspiration from his hat for head)

[dadsbongos]

the ogre problem

moots that aren’t oxy… LOOK AWAY LOOK AWAY LOOK AWAY pleas please please

1.3 k words / warnings - anal (least scary), non-con, monster fucking, body horror?, mind break, choking x-treme, size difference, uncomfortable amounts of drool, zombie fucking?, muscle kink? muscle emphasis?, bros in yo guts!!

summary - You’re just a little guy in the dungeons of Fear & Hunger, hopefully you don’t run into any big scary prison guards…

~~~

The cobblestone has been laid with little care; jagged, raised lips with wide grouts begging to be tripped in. Buzzing thin, restless flies’ wings ring around each corner with gossamer webs shining iridescent once caught in torch light just right. Layers of dust cling along each stone wall and crate and barrel. And aside from those tiny wings, and the distant, thudding footsteps of nightmarish creatures far larger than you -- it is silent. So silent, you can hear the blood thrumming through your ears, and the tingling bubbles of your saliva being swallowed down, and the soft breeze of your breathing.

So silent, the cork popping from your bottle of ale echoes down the dungeon’s sprawling, vacant passage.

Raising the bottle to your dry, cracked lips, you note how the ale itself is bitter and borderline undrinkable; and the bottle’s chilled glass gnaws at your palms. As you drink, you think -- despite drinking to avoid the unnerving process of planning and scheming for survival. The longer you loom within the dungeon’s shadows, the more impossible it is to stop thinking. Currently, you wonder if the bottle, once emptied, will make a sufficient diversion.

Or, if you’re truly desperate, a weapon of its own.

Fire rages down the narrow canal of your throat, a more soothing warmth spreading through your chest and swirling into your gut. Mixing there with thin, spindly mushrooms and dried meat strips to settle the shakiness of your hands (if only for the following hour or so).

Prickles of goose flesh serrate your skin as your body nestles against the frostbitten, lumpy, carelessly laid stone that compiles this miserable dungeon. One large, thumping mass of mangled flesh and dried, blackened blood with a single mind. Death clings, the scent of rot perpetually clogging the back of your throat.

Terrible.

Rags do little to protect you from the wafting freeze. Or from the destructive, overpowering blows of grayish creatures with bulging, tumor-esque, crowded lumps for muscle.

You clutch the bottle, cursing each God -- old and new -- as the once faraway footsteps creep towards your secluded hall. Scrambling off the floor, the soft dizzying sway of alcohol is scrubbed sober as you search for any protruding column or statue to crawl behind. With not even a large crate to duck inside, you are left to cram yourself flat against the deadend hall.

The song of droning wings and swallowed spit is replaced with your heartbeat jumping up into your jaw, throbbing behind your eyes, and the harsh suck of air between clenched teeth. You swirl the bottle to judge how much ale remains and pat yourself down for a match. A single match.

Echoing, heavy footfalls pause, and your knees wobble. Lavish jelly replacing bone and tendons. The measly mix of minimum nutrients and ale now punching back up from your stomach -- scorching you alive from the inside.

An hour cut down into mere seconds. The bottle of ale rattles in your trembling hold.

Your sweat-slicked fingers curl around a single match, deep, deep in your ragged pocket amongst loose herbs and bread crumbs.

The ogre stands at the opening of the hall. Piercing, white eyes shrouded by a thickened brow bone pin you to the wall. A sickly golden shine peeks over the edges of its shoulders from surrounding torches, but your hall is dark.

Your hall is cramped.

Your hall is terrible.

The ogre’s rusty, chipped meat cleaver glints against firelight. Browned blood staining the cloth wrapped around its ankles in splotches. Flecks decorate the ruffled, short material of its loincloth. You don’t dare look beneath the flint-hued cloth, between those daunting legs.

Faint, varying shades of reds and pinks persist in the joints and curves of the ogre’s large body -- blood, most definitely. Whose, you aren’t sure (you only pray to the Gods you previously swore off that yours doesn’t join the mix). Blue wires vastly unfurled, barely visible, beneath the ogre’s stiff skin. There must be crimson there. There must be life.

But shadowed, searing pale eyes tell you otherwise.

It resembles every cadaver you’ve passed in these corridors. Devoid of color, devoid of spark and light and blood that drums in ears.

Your grip on the ale slips from moist fingers, but you fasten your grip before it free falls and shatters across the floor. The ogre steps forward, then again, and again, and again, until it's walking in a full, swift cycle. Its speed shocks you further back into the bumpy wall -- shocks you into momentarily forgetting your shoddy, desperate plan for escape.

Fear jumpstarts your heart -- you fling out the remaining half of ale over the guard and hurriedly swipe your single match to strike against the wall.

The match spits a lone spark.

Your wrist is enchained by the guard’s thick hand.

You cannot hear yourself breathe. You cannot hear the flies. You cannot hear your spit. As blazing sunfire eyes absorb your frame in a single, unblinking stare -- you cannot even hear your heart.

You forget you have one. You look between its legs.

The stinger twitches against the widely gapped cobblestone floor.

Ale rolls down the beast’s face. It drops the meat cleaver with a tingy clang and lifts you, already turning down the long, dank hall towards the cells.

Terrible.

…

Overbearing heft skewers you to the nipping cold floor, heavy hands pressing your spine into a low bow. The flesh of your rear plush around the obnoxious imprint of the ogre’s stinger. Swollen sagging firm meat squishes between your thighs, nudging impossibly into your legs through the thin material of your trousers before they’re ripped off completely. Threads snapping and shredding apart sings through the stuffy cell, you spot the torn pieces of dark fabric in the corner of your vision.

Maybe your brain is melting itself down into mush to preserve what scraps of sanity remain, but your initial thought is how the cloth could make for a good tourniquet. Or perhaps ample wrapping for a torch.

Cold hands stretch open the cheeks of your ass. One hand leaves.

Your eyes take in the stone wall directly in front of you.

A surly bulb pushes against your tight rim. The hand returns, fingers curl around the curve of your hip and the rippling rotund masses of the ogre’s chest muscles sink into your distended back.

You are punctured by the ogre’s stinger.

“Ggh- !” sputum webs out over your lips, streaking the floor, as you choke on air. You fling an arm back, beating at the sturdy arms holding you down.

The ogre only displays vague irritation, easily shoving an arm under your chin and around your pulsing neck, yanking you against its dense body. Oxygen flows thinly, you rasp for it in a panic when the ogre’s arm tightens. Your pulse vibrates through your entire body, even down to your groin.

Terrible.

Worst of all, however, is the fullness. Fullness that makes you squeal between strangled gasps, thighs twitching and hot. Your instinct is to hide the gushy evidence between your legs, but you realize quickly when the ogre pays this defiant arousal no mind.

Those glassy eyes and icy skin. You realize now, the ogre cares not for anything past the warm hole it fucks.

As the ogre’s stinger repeatedly spears your smaller body slobber gums down your lip and chin, muscles lax and pliant under the barbarie. Your thighs clench, knees scraping against the cellar floor, the pressure’s relief is fleeting. A garbled, boorish whine stutters through your cinched throat and fastened jaw -- you’re embarrassed. Mortified, even.

The ogre smashes its ballooning, obtrusive hips to yours. A strange warmth unfamiliar from the swathe of ale glows from the back of your thighs - mingling with the ogre’s. Warmth blazes across each charged jam of flesh over flesh.

Drool strings down over the ogre’s arm, rivaling the weepy valley of your thighs. All of which the beast ignores to tighten bruisingly around your throat, securing you between the floor and its back.

The ogre cares for nothing, except the warm hole it devastates.

Terrible.

~~~

:3