#body alteration

[breedingsblog]

okay gang executive decision is that i'm 5'2. If you've been following me for a while you know i used to be 5'10 but a lot of boys including daddy think being shorter would suit me better. I'm happy i'm shorter now, ive always wanted to be. And with daddy being 6'3 my bumps will look even bigger!!!!!

[turns-out-its-adhd]

Is there a name for wanting your belly button removed? Like what would that mod/surgery be called?

Surely this is a thing other people have/want to have and it's not just me?

I just really really hate having a belly button. I wish it wasn't there, and it would look and feel so much better without it.

[birdsongisland]

id : a digital painting of magical patton in shades of purple and pink. he has light purple hair and eyes, two small black wings curl around his head while a raven stands on top of his head. he wears a lilac cape, ruffles and what looks like a uniform underneath, with many ribbons tied everywhere. his hands are open and a mist of light arches between them and behind him./end id

my entry for @princeofmisfortune dtiys bc the art was so cool 🖤 highly recommend clicking and zooming around!

[insane-control-room]

mutated researcher johan

sometimes radiobiology should stay in theory

some concepts/scrapped art below the cut

[skinstitching]

Tips: *Knots at the end of the thread aren't necessary but do keep the stitches from slipping +If you use cursive you don't have to cut the end of your thread to start a new letter *Patterns can change or don't use one +Using one color means you don't have to change colors *Take your time Feel free to ask questions

[lordshaxxion]

Green flames

Edix had a nasty accident in the Hellmouth when he was younger and accidentally got a miniscule bit of Crota’s soul shard stuck in his eye. It got removed ages ago, but the nightmares still plague him and the Hive still call to him. This is before D2 >:3c

Darkness, swirling and pulsing and writhing beneath his feet. He almost slipped from the thin green wire he was perched upon. Well, not entirely perched, but not entirely standing either. It shifted and groaned with each of Edix’s movements, threatening to snap as he tried to cross the wide black maw of darkness below him. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here, only knowing he’d just woken up in this nether-space where his Light wouldn’t work and his Ghost, Spiro, had abandoned him. He’d tried calling for his brother, Eli, but dust filled his throat every attempt he’d made. He’d tried calling for Ikora, Zavala, Cayde, anyone, to come and save him from wherever he was. Not a single sound left his mouth as he looked around him.

It was just darkness, nothingness, stretching as far as the eye could see save for the little green wire he was precariously balanced upon. As he stared down at the wire, Edix noticed it was on fire. Little green flames licked his feet and up to his ankles but never quite climbing higher, as if they knew it wasn’t their job to engulf him. No, that duty lay waiting for something else, Edix feared, as he examined the flames. They almost reminded him of... of...

He couldn’t quite remember. It was on the tip of his tongue, feeling so close but he just couldn’t find the right word. How infuriating.

The flames suddenly fanned outwards, spreading from the wire across nothingness and zigzagging wildly, rapidly. Carving burning green lines into the darkness, spreading and spreading and burning brighter until sparks flew off and created smaller illustrations. Symbols, lines, all curving and spiraling around Edix until he realised where he stood. A large circle, filled with crisscrossing and overlapping lines - a ritual circle. Then the lines danced vertically in four directions opposite Edix, climbing and climbing until they reached what was presumably the ceiling (or the top of his prison) and met in the center of that surface too. Candles lit themselves, or what Edix assumed to be candles, with the same sickening green that surrounded him.

Now he knew what this reminded him of. It was so obvious, so plain to see that even the dullest Titan could understand it.

The Hive.

But how? How could he possibly be here? How was he not dead? That was a better question, one that filled Edix with worries and doubts and paranoia as a chill zipped down his spine, rooting him to the spot. Fear. It curled in his gut, extending a cold clawed hand upwards into his rib cage and gripping his heart, sharp nails digging in. He was petrified, but at the same time he was... intrigued. The Hive didn’t take prisoners, so was he even as such? Perhaps in human terms he was, but to the Hive he was here with a purpose. They might be merciless murderers, but everything they did was with some form of reason. Somewhere in Edix’s mind the words sword logic made themselves known, but he shoved that away - now wasn’t the time to consider how this played into that logic.

Edix dared move his foot forwards an inch, understanding now that he hadn’t been stood on a thin green wire at all, rather on a floor so black it had looked like a pit. Whispers suddenly picked up around him in a foreign tongue, making the Warlock stand straight and move his foot back into place. They subsided into silence again. Interesting.

The flames flared suddenly, making Edix almost stumble in fright. They grew brighter, and the ones around his feet licked him hungrily and began to climb at last. It had been their job after all, just not yet. They climbed and grew and burned brighter but Edix felt no pain. No, they just crawled up his frame until they reached his mouth. Then it started to hurt as they touched his skin, his robes unscathed but his skin by god did it burn as they climbed up his neck, his jaw, then to his mouth. Then, inside. Oh, how it scalded, how it hurt, wrenching screams from him that were extinguished by the emerald fire that clambered eagerly inside him. Edix could feel them sliding down his throat and settle into his chest, falling to his knees and clasping at the space over his heart. It burned, it burned! A pathetic wheeze left him as he tried to scream again, tears flowing from his eyes as he began to panic. Hands scrabbling at his chest as if to try and claw the fire out manually, chest spasming as he choked before suddenly an intense calm washed over him.

What now? He thought, chest stilling and hands dropping to his sides. Edix’s head tilted back, face raising towards the ceiling as if looking up at a deity. No more pain graced him, all of it numbing as he felt the flames work behind his eyes. It almost tickled. The blue was replaced with the sickening green of the Hive, the sclera flooding green and, with a slick squelch, a luminous green third eye opened on his forehead and blinked slowly at the darkness. Edix remained calm still as the same tickling sensation worked its way down to his hands where not just his nails but the whole of his fingers slowly elongated into claws, the thick hide of the Hive covering them and working up to just a short way past his wrist as if he’d merely dipped his hand in paint.

There was a short, brief searing pain that travelled down his face, making him flinch but only for a second. Three thick lines passed down the soft skin of the Awoken from his eyes to his jaw, travelling further down the neck of his robes and down his body. It felt like silk crawling across his skin. It was all green.

The pain subsided as quickly as it came and Edix closed his eyes. A cool air embraced him as he waited for his blessing to be finished with. From his forehead, just above his temples, steadily grew bony horns that curled backwards at angles. Two great horns, thick and gnarled like a Knight’s, but curling downwards rather than upwards and branching just a little. Sharp teeth grew, making his gums bleed and splitting his jaw wider than it should ever be allowed to go with his physiology. At last, he was complete. A hand emerged from the darkness, and Edix opened his eyes and focused them. His deity, his god, emerged and stroked a massive claw, gently, down his cheek.

“At long last, you are ready. Embrace thy wyrm, embrace thy renewed purpose, little one. You shall be their destruction, their downfall. The marking my son blessed upon you during your brief encounter ensured this day would come. Now go forth, o little Wyrm of Mine, and taint their Light.”

Edix woke with a start, gasping and sweating as he sat up in bed. Tears began to spill from his eyes, a hand going over his mouth to stifle the sobs that left him. That had been the third time this week he’d had a dream like that. It’d felt so real, so visceral. He could still feel the gentle caress of a gargantuan claw down his face, shuddering as Oryx’s touch plagued him for a short while until the phantom sensation faded. Edix hadn’t even been part of the team who took the Taken King down, how could he possibly know the sound of his voice? The feeling of his touch?

It had only been a dream, he reassured himself as he got up and moved around. Just a dream. As he passed the mirror, he glanced at himself to reaffirm he remained unchanged. But as he passed, for a split second, he caught a flash of green in his own eyes and flinched away.

Just a dream.

[demidev]

[cyberrat]

62nd Batch Of Fics: 15th Fill

Soldier/Crocodile – Part 4/4 – mind and body alteration; monster fucc; character death (nobody specific mentioned) – He begins his new life but will soon forget about that anyway.

---

Jack really had good timing going back to his mate. They only have a day of lazying around near the water before the eggs really want to get out. Maybe it was just a deep seated instinct he’s had, or maybe it was sheer dumb luck. He can’t tell but in the end it’s not that important anyway.

The eggs are all beautiful; large and oblong with a pearlescent sheen that he can’t stop staring at. They are hypnotizing in their beauty… and they were so easy to deliver, slipping out of him one after the other with him barely having to push. His mate has been nearby, watching him with one eye as he laid them in a nest he’s made last minute.

Afterwards, they laze about close by. Jack doesn’t know if crocodiles usually protect their eggs, but he sure as Hell isn’t going to go anywhere without seeing them hatch. His mate seems content to just stay where he is as well.

Jack likes to think that he enjoys his presence. He might be right on the money there as well because just a day after laying his eggs, he’s being bred again already. He has no idea if it is possible for his mate to pump him full of another clutch but he won’t be complaining. He just loves that he’s finally getting some action in his old life and the crocodile cock really is… perfect.

It’s so long, spearing into him on rough strokes and dragging along his walls until lights are bursting in his vision. Not to mention the weight bearing down on him and holding him nice and in place… He’s gripping hand fulls of grass, just holding on and gasping in wheezing little breaths to not completely pass out as he’s being bred just a couple feet to the side of his first eggs.

It’s so good… so perfect… would he have ever known this pleasure and satisfaction if he had stayed with Overwatch? He doubts it. Days there had been miserable, always wondering if the next mission would be the last and when all of them just wanting to do good would blow up in their faces until they would all be killed.

Here and now he doesn’t have to worry about anything other than spreading his legs and letting his mate fuck him whenever the mood strikes.

Do crocodiles fuck for simple pleasure? He’s not sure about the ordinary ones, but his mate sure does. Day after day he gets fucked, his hole nice and raw from being used so much. He doesn’t think he’s ever got dicked down so often; not even as a young man.

He doesn’t think that he’s being pumped full of eggs, not yet at least. Maybe his mate waits to see what comes off the first clutch before giving him a new one to incubate. He knows next to nothing about them, but he will learn. He’s becoming one of them, after all. His tail is just as thick and long as that of his mate, his skin having changed into a darker color.

Maybe he’ll completely become a crocodile in the end. Does it worry him? No… no it doesn’t. Actually, he is quite excited about the prospect. Just as long as he can remain with his mate, laze about with him and get fucked by him, Jack will be happy.

In some way he knows that this crocodile is not like others but that knowledge, too, starts to vanish into the background the more time he spends at the river bend, keeping a watchful eye over their eggs and getting fucked like a toy.

His mate’s cock becomes the single most important thing to him for a while. It’s shaped for him; long and slippery and pushing into him so nice and deep. Right where it needs to be to pump him full of eggs. Their fucking is always slow; it’s not like his mate is the most agile and he has to take his time to properly push his heavy body over Jack so he can push in where he needs to be and slowly, laboriously dick him down.

He’s never been fucked so well and thoroughly. He’s becoming quickly addicted to it. To the feeling of the hot cock brutally stabbing into him and the heavy weight crushing him down into the ground. He has to learn to hold his tail awkwardly to the side to allow for easy access but he’s a quick hands-on learner, luckily.

Still, he doesn’t realize that his thoughts slip away. It is gradual yet fast, the more complex machinations of his brain simply shutting down as his body’s transformation progresses and thick, sturdy scales sprout along his back and biceps. His teeth become jagged, all the better to tear into their prey and splinter their bones.

Their young hatch and Jack carries them instinctively on his back, letting them ride along as he and his mate finally make their way along the river and toward the sea. They need to hunt for bigger prey. Something that will feed both them and their young.

He spends his days lying on the sand next to his mate, soaking up the light or getting bred all anew. When he’s fat with eggs, they make their way back to the river where there are more places to safely lay and hatch them.

If he’s ever had a name for himself, he’s forgotten it. All he knows is this need to put out more eggs and strengthen their family. All he wants is for his body to keep changing so he can push out bigger, stronger eggs. His hips widen somewhat for that. His hole has become a soft slit, fucked into this shape by his mate’s delicious cock reaming him as often as their energy will alow it.

He’s incredibly content… has he ever been human? He doesn’t think so. Thinking of a ‘past’ becomes harder until it is no longer possible. He’s just living in the here and now. He’s living for the foreseeable future in which he wonders where the next meal will come or when his mate will want to use his cunt.

He still recognizes humans. They come every now and then but he and his mate kill them and eat them all. They are perfectly large meals that can keep them full for a good while. They give them energy to keep fucking and keep producing their offspring.

How very nice of them.