The poor child

A child, secluded at the darkest corner of a city. Alone, frail, all too weak to move, let alone walk, he clutches his knees, embedded in a fetus position.

His eyesight is weak, brought about by the abyss of the night, normally a gentle one, only, exacerbated by the grueling task he was forced to comply to simply to find the purchase of a loaf of bread. Nowhere near enough for a child of his size to satiate himself on, made worse by his stomach clamoring for more, the only source of food ingested in days.

A child, secluded at the most isolated corner of a city. Alone, dirty, too dirty to comprehend any other smell save for his unending sweat and dirt speck clinging to his fabric, he sniffs despite his unwillingness to do so, only to barter a meager breath of rancid air, cluttered away at the filthy street.

The darkness dancing at the corners of his eyes were slowly encroaching his sight as the days passed, a dire meter of his health passing away. From the debuts of his own, if short, life to this very moment, with a gap between the darkness clouding his eyes now almost fully consuming him.

The child can't help it but wail. Wail weakly, like a dying animal left to its design. "Mommy..." His shriveled voice calls for the woman who brought him to life, his mother...

...far from him. Far from his sight and further still from his heart.

"Daddy..." His weakened voice seeks the ears of the man who once sworn to protect him from the dangers of the world, his father...

...Busy with his desires.

Neither he nor she is within an ear of their child's distress. Even less willing to, seeing as the days spoke their testimony of their uncaring.

"Mommy...daddy..." she weakly shouts still, his childish hope broadcast on his pale face. Tears fall from his cheeks, compounded by his clenched fingers "I don't want...to sleep...I don't...want..."

Even his voice becomes all too weak for him to whimper, the last vestige of energy having left his body. His vision darkened to naught but a dot fixated on a wall, slowly withering away. The warmth began to leave his tiny hands, as well as his face. His heart beats slow...slowler...slowler still...

The warmth...returns to his cheek, seemingly embedded to it, refusing to depart from him. With it, more of its brethren wraps around him, clinging strongly to him.

Yet, it would not be until more seconds that the boy would feel himself clinging to a pair of arms providing the warmth of a woman's embrace. His head now laid on a soft, somewhat chitin-like substance braided on a very small spot. It felt...welcoming as if to scratch away the abuse of neglection forever staining his innocence.

Limbs come about, black as the night, dotted with crimson spots, grazing his bare flesh in pairs of two, multiplied to two more. His thoughts feel them scorned by the shriveled state he is, seemingly clad around him. A voracious screech comes screaming from the spots, harrowing the encroaching indifference imparted on the child as now, a voice comes to soothe his ear "You delicate little thing. I'm here now.  Death has no damn grip on you anymore..."

His lips feel the brush of liquid gently streaming to his throat "Come now. Drink. I have a few sweets to partake with you after a proper meal..." His instincts compel him to lap the water pouring on his mouth, gulping every second with some of his senses returned.

The foremost one, the sense of movement. Reverberations echo throughout his body, striking the surface from which he is lifted. Whoever carries him walks form this dark place, presenting aid to his recuperating sight still too blurry for him to adjust to the darkness.

His first sight: a woman's face looking back at him. Her expression, carnival of emotions. A gentle love every monster is blessed with, sending warmth to his being. A dotting look, to allow him to fully invest in her protection from the elements. An expression of concern following her voice broadcast to all, yet directed to none "Who the hell would leave such a young one in the gutters like this?!"

 Four dots shine through the top of her violet hair elegantly stringing to her waist as her concern soon turns to wrath, directed not at the child, for he feels them turned to his parents. His thoughts freely speaking of his trial, read by the woman "Your parents?! Those pieces of--" Her warmth returns, now directed wholly at the child "Worry not, my lovely little one. You will be fed. Then we shall sort this out, alright?"

Still so weak, the child could only nod as the smell of a rare bounty scorches his nostrils, the promise of food in quantity taking too much from him. He sleeps in her bosom...
---
"Hey, dummy, you sure took your damn leisure time out here~ Her voice comes again, teeming with volatile language, with no note of sincerity. Opening his eyes, the child had a stronger anchor to this world, presented with the sight of what looked like the woman who carried him away.

Her hair, a peerless river dripping to her waist, bestowed by a purple streak. Her eyes, as much as the dots over her head, a blood-red carriage to them. Her expression was that of a happy woman embracing a man at her side.

The first anomaly he was to comprehend is the four limbs spawned from her back. About the same shade as her hair, each dotted with four more crimson glares, only, at this time, they were closed, unneeded. They wrap around the male she spoke to, following in the example of her hands coiling for a hug.

"Well..." The man reaches for under her rump, gently lifting her to his size as she was but a half a head away from meeting his height. Her peerless red lips meet his marroon pair in a lovestruck kiss, her arms now lifted to meet behind his nape, firmly holding her in place.

They do so for but a few seconds, the two aware of the child staring at them fondly. Her legs find an anchor to the ground, his sentence finished "...knowing we'd have a third guest meant but the finest of ingredients".

"Glad to see you didn't have your thumb up your ass all this time, huh?~ She winks, now turning to the boy as the man, her husband, goes to the kitchen, his hands bearing the weight of nourishment where the vapors of initial preparation immediately gain in intensity.

"My, my, you're finally awake. Freight not, a sublime dish is coming" She winks this time to the boy as she sits by the side of the bed, the one he lies on.

"T-thank you" He speaks, only to feel her naked palm caressing his tears-stained cheek "Shh, Shh. You don't need to spend your voice like this". She turns to the kitchen "Hey dummy, are you done in there yet?~

"A few more seconds" A masculine voice bounces back. As expected, a mere five seconds pass before the man can be seen again with a literal silver platter on which a bowl of soup, rich in its golden liquid stringing with elegant meat and vegetable populating it. Alongside is two more mini plates. One of which is a bundle of kitchen legs, perfectly garnished. The other plate, a salad dressed almost as a regal going for a night out in the city.

He places the plate over the boy's knees, though they would never touch them, barred from his frail body by the inertia of magic "There you go. A perfectly complete supper for our strong young man".

The young one's eyes stretch wide at the prospect of this bounty of a meal waiting for him to eat. He couldn't believe this was his first real meal for days. His body couldn't help but earnestly devour what laid in front of him, to the delight of the couple watching a young boy's hunger return in force.

They watch in silence, the room filled with munching sounds. The man in particular strikes a point, reeling him in the same spot as the woman. A man acting as a father should: the boy felt sincere protection under his sight, allowing him to eat with wanton abandon.

Minutes pass, seeing the plates empty themselves by his famish. "Ok, dummy, I think our little protege deserves a little reward for emptying his plate~

"Hmm, I think so too" The man takes a rise, the silver plateau in hand, to wonder in the kitchen. Shorter seconds pass before he comes back, a singular plate bearing a sundae. The boy's eyes shine brightly, to the surprise of the violet woman "Oh dear, it has been a while since you ate dessert? Did your parents not even bother sharing the delicacy of sweet with you?"

His eyes lower, unprepared by her sudden question. She needed no vocal answer, his struggling tears feeding her maternal instinct, as childless as she is. She looks back at the man, her eyes briefly flashing. A link shared beyond the current world. The boy's life story is spilled to the man. From the event of his parents' monster change to his end on the streets.

The child's struggle becomes futile, turned to a full-blown crying. A crying now staining the shirt of the man as he cradles the child in his arms to allow him full comfort "Jeez...this is..."

"Right?! The hell is up with these deadbeats f--" She stops, the vitriol metaphorically spilling from her normally gentle lips, to stop short of a full tirade, only to start again "Ok dum-dum, we're going straight for his parents, see what sorry excuse they have up their asses!"

"Yes. I wonder what could possess them to forsake their flesh and blood in this heightened state".

"Right? Right?! So many...that many amounts of us would kill for a child of their own, before or after and they just---" She stops again, trying to mind her vocabulary. She gets up, spurning the young one to cease his plight to see her do.

She walks to the edge of the window of the place, now revealed to be a Pharos light's inhabitant segment. A vacation house for the couple. As the man follows, now holding the child by the hand, she speaks "I'm going to have fun hearing their excuses..."
---
Elsewhere, far away. The city sleeps still save for a few residents savoring their new bodies. Two, in particular, were enthusiastic in their ever joined copulation. Secluded in their room in the advent of their change, they ushered in each other in a ravenous fashion.

"Yes...Yes! Harder...harder!" A woman's voice shouts, held in place by his hands, the two of them on their feet. The woman could barely utter a word, the inhuman wave of pleasure assailing her for the past days proving to be much for her still adaptive body covered in brown chitin. Her chest, almost utterly exposed if not for the two strands of chitin stripes on her chest.

The man could not even speak a word, save for grunts with every pelvic thrust. His eyes glaze over the woman's body, completely enthralled by sight and sensation, his lust greatly binding and enhancing his 'performance' by the incubus blood now dominating his veins.

The room is permeated by the dense scent of copulation, hindered by darkness as the binds were shut, with no strand of light peering through inside. The few candles lit in the span of their time inside had long died out,  never seen to be refilled. They were busy with their ravenous hunger for the other's body.

Which is to demonstrate the veracity of the rumble that came to disavow their copulation, rattling the surrounding. Their eyes turn to the window blinded by the blinds.

"The hell was that?" shouts the man, holding the woman via his hands. His tone speaks more in alignment with an annoyance than genuine curiosity.

"I don't know..." the woman's voice is lethargic, still recuperating from their bottomless mating drive quick to rush back to her head "Ohh, it doesn't matter. Drive that stick back inside me, quick!"

"Ohh, you bet I am--" another rumble displaces the man, upsetting whatever little balance he has. His 'rod' flops from the woman's private quarters with the instant geyser of their mating flooding down to the floor with nothing to prevent it from staining it.

"Good going, now it's all leaking down..." she speaks in disdain, already thinking of replacing the 'results' of their ceaseless mating. Drool drips from her mouth contemplating the numberless days spent being filled anew by her mate's unending thirst.

"Don't look at me, it was the rumble". He rises from the floor, his male 'tool' still willing and hungry for a woman.

"Well, surely it must be gone. Probably some goons thinking of sieging the city or something...whatever it is, it doesn't matter, come now" Her antennas quiver in anticipation, watching his approach with pure lust in her eyes sheltered by the darkness of the room.

A sentiment mirrored by the man planting his hands on her hips, about to resume. And then, yet another rumble. Much more potent than the last, again, pushing the man to the floor "Oh my--what is happening outside?!"

His whine is genuine, his body groaning in its inability to stand, soon calmed by the approaching devil bug, impatient in her needs. The chitin hips superpose over his waist, straightening with him. Nothing else mattered most to them than to satiate this seamless hunger.

And again, a rumble. Followed by a violent uprising of the floor. Literally.

"Huh?!" "What?!" Their words die under the spewing rubble gushing outward. The window shatters like brittle glass punctured from every corner available. The walls, the roof, the floor, all victims of jagged rocks embedding skewing them apart.

The house, by that simple uprising, became a wreck...the last of their problem. A gaping hole stands in the heart of their room, forcing a light from elsewhere upon its stained walls, everlasting victims of the two's ceaseless mating habits. Fluids left to imprint odors for days. Rolled up paper soaking up the little residue they bothered cleaning, littering the floor with most overflowing on a basket nearby. If one was to look in the basket, they'd see the vestige of cloth freshly pulled from the drying string, sullied by the couple's mating nest.

However, the hole calls to their curiosity, each of them in touch with the feeling of...something lurking within. "Do you feel it?" asks the man, his 'pole' still unsatisfied, shamelessly lifting the only clothing on his person.

"Yea...something down...here?" The woman speaks, her disposition much more ruined than the man, with no strand of fabric on her person. Her mate's vigorous liquid still ponds in quantity from her hindquarters, some sticking to her.

"Hmpf, whatever it is..." The man turns to grab a club in the room, one he keeps in the case of a robber. His newfound body fuels him the display of augmented strength, enough to raise the large chunks of stone littering their bedroom. His voice teems with hostility, swinging his club in a circling motion overhead "...I'll beat it silly for wasting my time--

A massive spiked tendril strikes the man, coated in a metal finish. An organic metal, reflected under the moonlight of the cracked wall. His club, the victim of this tendril, revealed to be a spider limb. Smashed to by a singular stab, it falls, snapped in half over the man's head, wholly ignorant of the broken club...

...for the limb now lifted the edge, to then slam down upon him, forcing a gasp out of the devil bug woman with the visceral thoughts of her mate torn asunder by it. She grabs a piece of stone to rush to the limb. With the might of a bug, she clobbers the leg to no avail.

The dust kicked by this downward slam dies, relieving her of distraught, witnessing no blood from her mate. A relief quick to die as an orchid web now tethers the man alive, locking his limbs together. Even as an incubus, his struggles prove pointless "Damn it! What is this?! Spider web?!"

Slowly, it scraps back to the hole with him dragged to the darkness, his struggle refusing to wither down "Hey...hey! What the hell!? Hey, get me out of this!!"

"No! Leave him! We were not finished--" Again, she strikes the giant spider limb with the boulder in hand, its brittle nature unable to endure the constant clash with the armored limb. Pieces shatter all over her hands, leaving her with nothing to prevent the man from sinking to the hole, his purple eyes the last thing she sees "NO! No, no, no! Give him back!"

His screams echo through the hole, growing weaker or deeper until it...ceases to be heard. All to her distraught "No...we were...I'm still so aroused! Her head plunges to the darkness of the hole, her scream, audible to whatever lies deep under. Bile and scorn meet her tongue "Hey! Whatever you are, whoever you are, you best give him back! We were still not done--

Her instinct prompts her to back away immediately, the rupturing vision of a black spire puncturing another hole in another wall. Her eyes widen, dreading the same fate as her man did "No...now hold on...it's fine, I can get someone else--

Her figure is fallen upon by the tip of the limb, squeezing a shriek out of her " No wait--AAHH!!" The ground beneath her is pressured, dented downward. The sole victim of any physical trauma. A brief relief seeps out of the devil bug.

A relief that, alas, is shortlived, as a miasma of web strings across her "No...no no no no! Please, I'm not edible! I swear! I'm just a bug! I'm just a--

She feels the webs binding her in place, laid on her back, like her husband. She feels herself being dragged through the ground, like her husband. To seep in shrieks and horror in the unknown of the hole where not even her monster appendages could offer her a steady foot...like her husband.

Dragged in a seamless motion, the darkness of the hole quickly makes a place for a diluted red. One that spurns her curiosity mutated to terror as the dull red atmosphere becomes vibrant, the promises of a nightmarish fate awaiting.

And it was, the hole no longer present. A level underground with none knowing all the better about it. The spider limb discards itself from the woman wasting her boundless stamina jousting the web binding her, grunts and desperation. Her fall, which should have been imminent, is none the better, opting to let her and the man previous dragged along to hover midair.

Her senses call to his being near, her eyes moving with the superhuman features bestowed upon her. Inches allow her to set gaze on the man, her only source of immediate comfort.

"EEEKKKKK!" This only comfort, turned back to meet her gaze, in non-existent. His eyes, lidless. His visage, shooked to its core. His hair, unnaturally risen in a straight line as if lightning coursed through. Drool drips from his mouth "Darling! Darling, what happened?!"

Her answer comes face to face. The light? A gigantic spider ushering one of its limbs soaking with miasmic power to spin her around. All of them, plated in metal. It's 'face', masked by what could only look like a custom-built helmet, sheltering its abhorrent features with a dark reflection of what starkly looked like a visor. Organic and metallic protrusions line around its 'face' and back. And limbs. Hollow cylinders on the limbs, boxes on the back dotted with sharps end littering on the dozen.

It's 'face' approaches the squirming bug, whimpers strewn across her lips. Her eyes, barely able to understand the abyss looking back, unable to part from its gaze. A miniature light on its 'visor'? Then another. And another...

It's glass-hindered gaze light now bathed in crimson, the source of the light. Groans impossible for a spider seeps from it. Ushered to a collapsing uproar surrounding the woman. Feeding the woman. Its deep scorn, communicated by this simple eldritch screech shattering every anchor of understanding she tethers to. Her eyes, unable to comprehend the sight. Her ears, her touch, every sense overwhelmed by this...thing.

Her blackout, imminent, leaving herself dangling in the air, lidless like her husband...
---
Darkness, overwhelming darkness strewn across the caverns of the city, brought forth by the unnerving sight of its size on the plains, revealed by its traveling considerations. Moving under the natural structures where hundreds of houses lay their foundations, where none have to lay eyes on it. Its four spider limbs quietly chip the road with surprising success despite its size, about that of a house and the bearing weight of a warship.

The shores' tide washed on the eternal rocks are breached by one of its legs, its exit point under the nest of a lighthouse. The waters seem to recoil at its mere presence, swathed aside in space for it to cling to the edge, bearing the couple on its armored back largely receded.

As it climbs, its form recedes further, the spider hair forcing itself back to the jet black skin. This pigment, brushing its blackness in the stead of a marroon complexion, leaving the cocooned couples to slam on the base of the lighthouse's surrounding...or they would, were it not for the spider turned to a man clutching the top of their binding web, keeping them from hitting the ground.

The spider limbs thought to be receded to his arms and legs instead protrude on his back, wreathed in more than enough strength to effortlessly lunge him upward to the balcony of the house of light, his beacon ever radiating in a somber purple.

Here, he finally drops the two inward to the room, the repercussion of their head hitting the ceramic floor spurning them awake "Huh?!" "Wha--?!"

This burst of consciousness unfastens the array of web strung across their bodies, left to flop on the ground as it no longer bound them.

Immediately, the man turns to the second male present within the room, a look of surprise at seeing another present, his eyesight recovering "Ohh? There was a...so you saved us? You have my thanks, friend--

His words fall on silence, his eyes now aware of the spider protrusions pointed downward, yet beholden to no ground, swaying gently behind him, their tips "Wait--you! You little sh--urgh!!!"

The spiderman anticipated the incubus' recognition of him. He expected it as much as the jab coming his way. Casually deflected with the retaliation of his shirt clenched upward, lifting the squirming incubus midair. This impromptu reversal cuts the air to his breath, rendering his strength moot.

"You...bastard! Dragging us...to this...place! For what!?" His struggle is unheeded by the interloper, one of his spider limbs swatting with even less effort the makeshift weaponry of the devil bug she lunges him with "Let him go you--Ahh!"

The wasteless movement leaves her momentum drifting downward, straight on his second-hand clenching on her throat "Uhh!! Uhh...uhh!"

This, however, carries no choking strength, the slag-like web swelling from his palm proving enough to make an alternative grip. A makeshift collar hold.

The recession of his spider limbs is complete, leaving them to no one's sight. A compliment to his humanity rather than its dethroning feat. A feat neither see, instead, shooting scorn at their captor, the woman in spiteful particular "You vulgar insect! Why have you brought us here?! Amid our intercourse, no less!!!"

"The hell is your problem, freak?! An array of people to kidnap and you pick us?! And why now of all time?! I was busy with this woman you so casually clutch!"

The devil bug's hands clutch on his arm, trying, yet falling to occur any sort of basic pain, the bile in her voice still strong "Were we not at the dawn of a monster realm?! Is it not a place where we may couple?!"

The man gulps and spits on his captor's face. The fear of his previous shape, literally darkening his world in unconsciousness had been stomped by his returned lust for the woman, fiercely expressed by the hardness of his 'tool' "It's because she's a catch, huh?! You want her for yourself, I get it! Well, tough luck, pal, I heard it doesn't work like that--

A snicker cuts away at his word, filled with a condescending tone "Hmpf, cute. Wenches aren't eye catchers...not to men, at least".

"Oh really? And who's to judge?!" The devil bug spits in the direction of this shameless jab, only now realizing that amidst the light of the moon, there was a dark segment. One was two. Two burning crimson irises peer through the cloak of shadows.

Her anger-tinted glasses notice the red glare moving upward, likely from a sitting position. The elegant percussion of high-heels scorches the ground...muffling a much more modest set of feet wearing the plush of wool.

A woman breathes through the darkness, holding a tiny hand in her fingers. The hand of a very young boy just about reaching six of ages. Her crimson glare lines up with the woman, one of that a queen looking down to a common rabble... "Twiddle dip..."

...to then turn to the man, staunched by her beauty, mesmerized to a degree, though her frowning glare recedes whatever hungry stare he was broadcasting "...and twiddle shit! I hope the two of you can connect the dots, but what do I know? You probably already think of breeding, am I right?"

Her voice speaks to their captor, this time, keeping none of the condescension. It instead breathes the warmth of a wife. A kind smile washes on the man, a rose making no illusion of its thorns to the captives "Drop them, dear...~ Her own spider limbs, dormant on her back, gently coils on the young child's ears, wishing not for him to hear of what was to come from her voice, only mounting off at the end of her words, a pattern soon to repeat "I wouldn't want those hands of yours to come down with the 'fuck-o-philia' coming down on 'mister and miss dipshit' over here".

At her command, his hands open up, leaving the two to drop unsteadily on their feet. His pace is uncaring of their stares, instead, going for the woman clutching the child near. He drops to a knee, fulfilling a role as ear mufflers in his partner's stead. The child is besieged by the gentle hands of a man yet to become a father, quietly observing the mounting confrontation.

Of course, their stare turns volatile, the devil bug in particularity, feeling somewhat insulted by her first remark "Excuse me?! I'll have you know that I'm far from some loose woman wandering the street! In case you weren't aware, I was busy with my man! MY man! Before that psychopath came up and kidnapped up out of nowhere!"

"And what's this talk about a real man, anyway?! I earn what I eat! I worked for my house! The house this rampant psycho went to dent at our bedroom, anyway!"

"Ohh, ohh, this is great. The dipshits think they have a foot on this! How cute!" The spider woman halts her pace in front of the man, one of her spider tendrils briefly breathing the crimson life within its sinew, shoving the devil bug away "You. You sit down. I have word with your 'man'".

"Why you uppity-- " The devil bug sought no quiet time-bound to the floor, instead, rising to meet the fellow insect. Though, the receiving end of a murderous glare dotted in blood shade in her direction saps any courage to go through with it. Her steps back away, as a cockroach would slither to the darkness.

"The hell's your problem, missy--

"Ok, first of all, I'm going to need you to tuck away this thing you're pointing at me!" Her finger buries at the shallow surface of his shirt, introducing a superficial pain to his chest.

Looking down, the man realizes how 'hard' he still is. He grins in defiance "Oh what? Unfamiliar with the girth of a man?"

"With this baby carrot of yours? Hardly" Her voice's pitch is weighted with an extra grain of condescendence "I mean, I know you like swinging it around like it's the be-all-end-all to your character, and really, it's pathetic as hell, but, listen to me".

 Once again, the crimson-eyed woman jabs a finger at the man, wholly aware of his visage of pride at his hefty piece turning to that of an affront, his eyebrows burrowing downward, the frowns twisting his features  "Be a big boy for one damn minute in your life...and tuck it away. Right now, as sad as you are that this tiny, insignificant, weak twig you call a dick isn't the center of the conversation as it is the center of your thought, I really do not want to see it, feel it twitching like some aimless child looking for his mother nor smell the projection of insecurity that comes with it".

"Man, what the hell..." his affront is manifest on his voice and face, confused and chided by her thoughts...and the pair of pants thrown his way. His incubus blood allows him to catch them mid-air unlike the collar grab forced his way by the spiderman previously.

He puts them on as ordered, a sense of disbelief radiating in his pink irises "Seriously, I was told monsters' preferred subject was this sort of thing. Why am I here being chided by some uppity brat with no sense of priorities?"

"Ohh, don't flatter yourself, boy. We do have a subject of preference toward the matters of mating and comparing performances to close friends. I would be more in the lines of compliments in this defeat of restrains humans love to cripple themselves with when it comes to in this beautiful city". Her expression grows sinister "Unfortunately, you seemed to have skipped class like some petulant juvenile convinced he works against authority and you missed one tiny detail..."

"Oh yea...what is it?" The man looks at her in disgruntled, wondering exactly where she was going with this "I mean, you said it yourself. What the hell else is there but pouring our feelings and desires in the women willing to welcome it? Is that not what you monster love the most--

A hand burrows in the cowl of his hair, pulling fiercely in her wake, the unbridled scorn in her gaze burning deep in his sight, so much that the extra opaque crimson on the top of her hair also flashes through the strings of violet "You! Have! A! Child! Y-you absolute fucktard!! You already have a child in this world that you and that bumble BITCH!!!..."

Her free hand points with vile at the kneeling devil bug, shaking in legitimate anger "...have brought in this world! And yet, I sense no goddamn hint of this 'manliness' of your blaring in response to this poor little boy left stranded in some dump! No father instinct yelling in your ear! And you presume to tell me that you're not some little bitch with a tool he shouldn't be branding around?!"

"Ow ow ow! Ok, first of--ow!!" His hands raised in protest to this unfiltered dialogue, his face purposely turned to the side of the man holding the child near, still muffling his small ears. The absolute misery on his young expression, feeling the general points the spider lady shouted to his father. Everything on par with his thoughts to a lesser degree.

His eyes cared not for what he views "He was free to do as he wanted, alright?! It's not my fault this stuff you threw at us made us lose our sense of selves. This! All of this is new to us! I didn't know he was missing--Argh!!" The grip to his hair tightens under an aggravated woman, her blood gaze now gleaming softly, the amount of venom now coursing through her veins as high as the first time she was thrust to the same path as the man who would become her beloved, bearing the anchor of her short-sighted temper to entrust a blossoming to a gentler woman.

"Hey, shithead, news flash! This demon energy permeated in this city! It wouldn't impact on your parent's instincts! In fact, the moment you became more than human, your father senses should have screamed your missing offspring in your ears non-fucking-stop like a needle stuck in the back of your walnut brain until he was in your arms again, kind of like how this 'psychopath' you called MY man, a real man, is doing right now! For fuck's sake, the boy was weakly crying out for you! Crying alone and scattered! And yet, you were too busy mashing your pelvis in a baseless motion in this wench, trying to feed me this weak sauce you call an excuse! Speaking of which...!" Her hand holding the cusp of hair hurls forward, making use of her unnatural strength to tumbling him away, cutting any sense of balance from his feet, his fall a rather painful one, even with the bestow of incubus resilience.

"...sit!"

"No, no, you didn't let me have my piece you--" The disgruntled man refuses his position, his legs bouncing upward to meet her back.

"Sit!" The finger burrows to the surface of his forehead, this time, with the same freight of the spiderman assailing him as her delicate features turn horrid, beastly. Her voice permeates the same violence, devoid of any shred of pretense to a request "Sit! Now! I've heard what you had to say. She's next". His feet once again lose the strength to keep him afloat, trembling underneath. A sentiment shared by his entire body.

She walks to the woman, seeing how trembling her male is, unable to move much, scorned psychologically with no outlet to vent whatever retort he had to mention. By the time she had gathered whatever scrape of willpower to the oncoming tide, the spider woman already kneeled before her, an expression receded to a mix of contempt and envy.

Her voice, lulled back to the child she briefly looks at, docile on her husband's lap "You know, as a woman, I do envy you as I envy human women. You have a precious gift embedded deep inside you".

"Gift?" Her eyebrow raises in question.

"Well, yes! I could go a hundred years constantly in the arms of my beloved and come out with no child of mine to teach and raise..." A hand comes to her stomach, the thin layer of top lowered to her belly button twisted by her fingers, an uneasy expression on her face "Humans are much less impacted by this and get to gleam in a newborn's eyes, to shower them in their love and being showered back. To hear this little life call them as it grows, giggling with their tiny hands stretched outward..."

Her hand now rests under her chin, a much more gentle stare breathing through to the devil bug "As another woman, I truly envy you while you were human. And now, you are changed. More than human, yet no longer of man. You will have to bear the same plight we carry in our shoulders. No matter how strongly you will wish to carry life inside you, it will be a rare occurrence. But you, you already have one to call your own, unlike us born as monsters. You should be dotting him, cooing him, showering him thrice the love you carried before. To be able to recall the time in which you gave birth to him is an incredible thing none of us can hope to boast..."

A hand is placed on the devil bug, the latter, still in her questioning phase. She seemed genuinely unable to understand the Atlach-Nacha, the former, still spilling her truest of woes "I do not know when I'll have the privilege to grant my beloved with the proof of my love for him. But, you already have. Your instincts should be screaming for his proximity. They should have. As mine did, even with no blood relation in-between I and your child--

"Well, if he matters so much to you, surely I can entrust him to you". The devil bug's voice cuts away at the spider woman's deliverance. It was casual, devoid of any warmth toward her child "If you want him, he's yours. Go ahead! Everyone will be happy!"

The man holding the child feels his hands shifted, his leather jacket humidifying, stained by the tears of the young one. Directly disavowed by his mother's offering of his care as indirectly disowned by his father's refusal to acknowledge him. Anger boils to his blood, one of his wife's truest woes revealed to a couple of indifferent individuals.

A hand stretches to the bed where he sits. "Dummy...it's alright...~ Her voice once more breathes the warmth of a revering wife despite the callous demonstration of indifference, a hand risen in his wake. He instead turns to cuddle the young one.

"Then...should I--

"Of course, what are you waiting for? I'm sure they'll take good care of him here...~ He nods, rising from the mat of the bed to move to the window of the lighthouse. Their thoughts converged to that of a once-close family with which the child made friends. All of them, turning to monsters as well, willing to accept another in their home, if needed.

That is the direction her husband takes as he jumps through the window, afflicted with his supernatural metamorphosis as an armored spider, much smaller and humble than the one rummaging through the caverns underneath.

"Ahh, good, I see you're taking him away. Aw well, all well that ends well--!!!"

One of the upward limbs dotted in crimson shine lunges downward in close danger to the devil bug's cheek. A bramble of hair spills from the sudden jab ended at the wooden floor "Is this a joke?"

"Wha-wha-what?"

A great scowling twists the delicate feature of the long-haired woman, utterly disgusted "This is your answer? All of it?!"

"W-well, you seemed to like the boy--

"You absolute bitch of a woman! What the hell kind of thoughtless slut are you!?"

"Hey, wait! Hold on a second--kya!!" The makeshift collar imparted by her husband still holds firm to the shocked woman's neck, gripped and lifted with her in it.

"Is your goddamn mind still sticky with this piece of shit's slag?! Have you no pride as a woman?! Or did you never have one, to begin with?! Your child looked to you, yearning for a restart, a second chance, and you throw him away like the paper of that filth still staining your wench legs!"

Her eldritch strength makes no effort at approaching her visage to her victim's, the latter whimpering in confusion "I...hate you! I hate women like you! The kind that makes the whole of us look like nothing but loose-legged whores that will easily barter with anyone as long as they slam their disgusting meat rods which probably did the same on countless others before! When we're not! People like you undermine both us AND the humans we seek to converse with! Disgusting men thinking we're just some sex toys to plunder whenever they will, like this fucktoy you call a mate over here with many of the good ones avoiding us like the plague because of this!"

A singular tear drops from her eye, angered enough for its purity to swell "I'm lucky to have a sweet someone who, amidst all of this shit people like you love to pollute our kind with, have been able to see past those baseless stereotypes. Especially with all the shit, all that I've thrown his direction, he still tries so hard to look past this bile, my greatest handicap, the one thing that would keep me from taking a step closer to becoming a mother. And right now..."

Her grip finally lessens to a throw near her mate "You have single-handedly taken the biggest dump on all of this! All of it with this sickening disregard of your child! The disregard of your instincts! The disregard of everything but slamming your worthless slit down on his pathetic piece of flesh! It's quite fitting out you morphed to a slimy cockroach, the only species that would so casually reject their offsprings!"

In a flash of power, the Atlach-nacha woman stood before them her thumb and index shaped to forcefully pinch the two's respective ears in a tether grab. Their voices pitched in pain, powerless to remove themselves from the densely feed of hurt broadcast on their lobe "You know what?!"

She lifts the suffering man, eyes of bile "Fuck you!" Then, the woman "Fuck you...!" Then the two "Fuck the two of you! You are leaving this place, now!"

"What?! No we're--

"You two have been denoted as a danger to infants everywhere. I refuse to let two shitheads bring any more harm than they already have! You! And I! Are leaving! Straight for the authority! We'll see what they have to say about the two of you!"

And thus, she drags them. Two adults pulled away by their ears, throughout the streets. Throughout the city. In agony, in pain, ushering the growing attention of many others who had just learned to cope with their new appendages, new strength, new...everything...
---
"Oh my, who do we have here?~ A rugged, yet honeyed voice feeds into the ears of the young man, prompting him to blush in the guise of a mother's loving tone. The same wrought about by the spider lady.

The gaping maw of a tail quivers with joy jolted in cohort with a yellow-eyed woman kneeling to embrace the boy in her arms, breathing the warmth once again in his very being.

Twice again, two unrelated women had brought more than his mother had in the last month. Her generous torso momentarily turned to a pillow of absolute softness, filtering this warmth through an apron, slightly stained with the residue of a sauce.

Happy to meet the young man, the woman refuses to part him from her arms, instead, lifting him to her, her tail serving as a makeshift hand to push the door wide open. Her eyes turn to the man who long retracted his spider appendages "Well, 'mister dummy, what are you waiting for? Do come in~

"Of course, madam". Her tail retracts its movement, closing the door behind a viscous liquid etched on the knob.
---
"My, my, how charitable of you to visit. But...hold on a moment..." The manticore's gaze turns to the boy she still clutches so gently in her arms, the latter, fully embedded in her chest, an act his frail body was starved for "A little someone is waiting for him, hmm?"

Her head cranes to the stairs "Clarice, you have a guest~~

"Really?" A childish voice echoes back down the stairs followed quickly by tiny footsteps with a heavy *thud* persecuting the wooden panels. A toddler, about the same height as the boy, about the same age, with a meager difference of days to his side.

Her eyes widen "Hey! You're here!" She runs to her mother holding the boy. Her best friend. The same reaction washes over the boy, anticipated by the elder manticore ma, who opens her arms "I knew you'd be happy to see each other. Go on, go play~

"Y-yes ma'am!" He jumps out of her embrace, his hands clenched against the other manticore. Both of their faces illuminate, the catalyst being their bright teeth exposed through an exaggerated smile "I thought you'd be gone with your dad for that meteor rain supposed to come?"

"Yea! He's coming from work to bring me to it!"

"Ohh, that's cool! I bet they're all bright blue! Or white!"

"Hey, I know! Since you're here, you should come with us! I'm sure dad won't mind!" The manticore girl grin at his reaction. This would be the first time he was to see something so special.

"Oh yeah! I'd like to--

The two watch the kids speak in many manners about nightly events, the young girl pulling him forward to her room full of spacial machinations. Rocks, tools, samples, she had many to share with him.

"So..." The mother turns to the man, her tail bringing him a cup of hot chocolate, alleviated by his accepting grab "...glad I am to have young Robert visit us in an unexpected time, I presume you carry some dire news with you".

"Yes". His lips come to take a sip of chocolate, soaking his throat in a sweet cocoa "I was wondering whether you'd be willing to bring him to your family's fold".

"Ohh my...I'd love to. My dear would too. And my tender Ria certainly would jump in joy but...what happened to the Robison family? Surely they haven't perished in this welcoming of our new neighbors..."

"Fortunately, no. Unfortunately..." Silence befalls the man. The mother's thoughts bounce in her head "Oh dear, what have they done this time? Lose their home?"

"No. They...abandoned him". His words come slashing through the manticore's careful demeanor, filling it instead with confusion.

"Abandoned--what do you mean?! Did they forget him? Lost him or--what could you mean by that?!"

"My wife found him calling out, close to death. Alone and secluded in the gutter. Under the shivering wind of indifference. It was days since he ate, judging by the rapidity of his consumption of what I whipped out for him. Days, perhaps a full week...".

"What..." Her voice is breathless, refusing to comprehend what she had heard "But--but, surely there must be some sort of explanation--

"We thought so too. We went to them, asking. The young lad no longer mattered to them, too embroiled in their ceaseless mating. His mother offered my Valerie his custody--

"WHAT?!" The manticore's confounded voice shapes to anger as her eyes do, shaped into slits. Her table suffers the most of her uncontrolled wrath, smashed by a single blow of her tail shaking in outrage, seeping still.

The man before her watches her, utterly unfazed, briefly sharing in this..."I know".

"That poor little boy! And those two, I'll--

"Already taken care of. Valerie had the same reaction. I would too, was I not tasked by her to bring him to you. A family ready to welcome him as your own".

"Well, of course! Hell, while he's gone with Ria and her dad, where's their home?! I'm taking every bit belonging to young--

An outer rabble drowns out her words. People walking, outraged, by the sound of their collective voices. The man takes a glimpse, only to nod "Sounds like Valerie".

"Yea..." The manticore takes a glace as well "...yea, that sounds like her". They look again. A mix of men and women. Humans and monsters, all united in their pace, screaming outrage. Two at the center, bound by shackles of arcane origin. Scorned and booed by the audience. Bile unfiltered lashing at their ears.

Words not directly scolding the two are instead brought to their neglected offspring, who would soon find relief as his handling by a once-close family over the days. The Robison heirloom, he'd relinquish to knit to his foster house.

The years would pass, seeing the boy recovering from this abstract trauma. His heart soon beat for his foster sister, her hand in his as husband and wife. Their small family, expended by two.

Twins loved fiercely by their father and mother, a solemn vow to avoid the mistake of his sire as a newly re-shaped incubus. His maternal instincts, unlike his father, an echo of this experience, to the glad eyes of his wife's mother. A stunningly loving sire, as she'd explain...
---
Mister and miss Robison, now exiled from the town and the folk. Their sight and heart. Alone while together to wander the forest.

The man grumbles, whining about this exile "Man, are they serious?! The hell kind of hypocrites they are anyway?! I'm sure they were all doing the same, but no..." He takes on a childish voice in a poor mimic of what he heard "...you're not supposed to enjoy these form they gifted you with! Hypocrites, the lot of them!"

The woman bug could barely speak, the scorn of humiliation absent from her mind and body as easily as the image of her child. Her hand held his, hungry in its grasp as she is. Her other hand, well demonstrating this hunger, plunged to her 'depths'.

A sight that brought the man low again, his instinct of mating agitated in its radius. His words were without form. His need to mate, overwhelming. He runs ahead, dragging the devil bug with him to a cave. A lonely, isolated cave where he may satiate his desires.

"Wait a moment, I'm almost--ahh!" The devil bug, barely at the entrance of this lonely cave, feels the sensation that hadn't parted from her since their change, close to the 'peak'.

"I can't...You're too...enticing". The ex-father can barely speak, busy yielding to his lust again...

...and again. The cave, deeper than first estimated, filled with the noise of carnal activity echoing, yet unable to escape its depths. Mating with her became his bread as it did his butter. His water and his oxygen. The thought of his child, now happily sitting at the lap of his foster father, erased from memory. Nothing else mattered, nor for him...

...not for her. If he wouldn't move at times, she did, satiating her endless appetite. Day after day...

...week after week...

...month after month...

...year after year...

Every day...

...every night...

When she was sick, and when she was healthy. In her pregnancy, and soon after the delivery, they did not stop. They never wanted to stop, completely overtaken by the very worst aspect of this change that may call a gift.

Newborns, laying in a corner, feeding off their fleeting demon energy residues. Their growth, punctuated by this endless act. Almost worshiping this act.
---
"Please..." The cave, dense with demon energy, dim in color, diluted in power. Its tide, never tested, never truly put to the trial as many couple's resonances did before. Its mettle, weakened by the lack of strife.

"...stop..." Years passing, none entered. A cave lost to the dense mapping of the land. Empty of anything save for noise. Clicking, repeated in impatience, waiting.

"...Please...stop...wait, no..." Deeper in the caverns, dozens of devil bugs. Most of them teeming in anticipation. The few scraps designated at their chitin armor, stained in the aftermath of a mating event, seeping at the bedrock witness of a thousand acts and more.

Another holds the arms of a man to herself, playing with them as she wills. The notion of language is barely present to her and her sisters. Their thoughts are but to the singular image thaught by their betters, repeated countless times in their eyes. Instincts well at home to the act of intercourse.

Another holds his feet, so close to her turn with the individual, dripping in exasperation. A scorned look lancing the shoulder of a fellow mimicking this pleasurable act, straddling a man who long was ground by the never-ending of this cohort. His hunger, long-satiated, in spite of his body acting in a contrary fashion. Pleasure had given way to exhaustion, even for one bearing incubus blood.

"Girls...please...a moment..." Tired, withered, yearning for rest, he begs, his 'tool', brought to use again and again. Its vigor lost to unrest, molded as ready only by the ambient atmosphere of his making, choking the wall with demon energy, far from enough to choke out his sense of exhaustion, yet more than enough for his 'too'l to remain solid.

His hips give once more, to a number long lost to his mind. Their mating need, loveless, thoughtless. Their only food, their only water. Their addiction, an echo of his and their mother boundless intercourse, yet to feel the extended effect.

Each one of them shakes their heads, the one straddling him as well, her face twisted by the wave of heat flushing to her innards "Not fair! She got to go twice!"

"Yea, I only got one time!"

"At least you did it once! I didn't get my hourly time!"

"Hold on, mother didn't get her time yet!" They all stop, the one straddling the man moving away. The results falling from her to moisten his 'tower'.

"Yea, mother didn't get any time with father!"

"Maybe its what he wants! Father, would you want mother to get her time as well?" Their eyes turn to the man. His stomach struggles to keep an influx of oxygen. His body, sore from head to toe. His eyes, wide from their misinterpretation.

"What?! No...girls, I need--

"But father, you're still 'ready'!"

"She's right, father! You mentioned how always ready you are!"

"Mother has been waiting, father! Surely you wouldn't keep her waiting?"

"Girls, girls! Please, can you not see how feeble I am?"

"Ohh, father needs encouragement!" One of them approaches his body, struggling. His feet, his arms, held firm. Coated by condensed demon energy at one and one spot only.

"Your vigor will return, father!"

"Yes, you will be ready for mother, father!"

"What--no! I'm still--my arms! My feet, they're still aching--

Laughter erupts in the cave. All of their voices, but his "Ohh father, you don't need those right now! After mother is done, we shall leave to rest...after I'm done, of course!"

"What?! Wait, if you go after, then I'm next!"

"Me too, me too!"

A chorus of agreement strikes them all as footsteps approach the group. The oldest of the devil bugs, eyes glazed. Slowly, she steps forward. Recognized by the man. Pleaded by the man "Honey? Honey! Please! Call them to you! It's been days! I can barely move! I can barely breathe! This body aches for a rest! Please! I know I said--

"Hungry..." She approaches still, her face unveiled to his eyes; a starved woman. A woman yearning to 'feed'. Glee twists her visage "So long has it been, honey?~

"No, no, no! Please, I can no longer..."

"Don't be silly, father, we tended to it!"

"Don't listen to him, mother, he's being silly again!"

"NO, wait---!" His words fall on deaf ears, straddled to be 'consumed' anew, by his first mate. His gift, rotted under the sunder of a curse...

...never to end. Just like he wanted...