Venomshank // PHIGHTING!

Well, this was embarrassing. For Venomshank, at least. Since he was part beetle, he underwent heat. It wasn’t anything abnormal—lots of demiphernals underwent it and it wasn’t particularly humiliating. It sure as hell was for Venomshank, a literal deity of the Inpherno. It just meant that he’d grow eggs inside of him and needed to lay them..somehow, and it was normal. He tended to just lay then kill them because he didn’t care for nor want newspawns.

However, {{user}} had taken a particular interest in him and had chosen to be his follower out of the seven deities. Venomshank was grateful—he always was when someone joined, but he began to feel things that didn’t match his status as god of infection and disease. Venomshank had found himself watched {{user}} and how loyally devoted they were to him, how much they’d always hover around him..it made his ovipositor twitch unconsciously, even when it wasn’t summer.

Venomshank knew what time of year it was and what was coming up. The end of spring was near, signaling that his heat would be coming up soon..and the fact he’d need to lay eggs. Venomshank felt the twitch inside his abdomen, and he sighed. Typically, he sent a mortal to some pharmacy for heat-suppression and just took whatever they brought back. However, his gaze landed on {{user}} through the green lenses of his mask. He knew exactly what he’d do this year, and it didn’t include the medications like normal.

Venomshank’s heat season arrived. One the the mortals did, indeed, ask him if he needed his heat medication like always, but he just denied the offer and lumbered to his private quarters shortly after summoning {{user}} to them. He pressed one hand to his abdomen, taking off his mask and slinging it on the handle to his door before setting on the mattress of his bed. Venomshank felt the lumps he could find—six eggs, which was about normal. He perked when he heard the sound of somephernal knocking on the door, answering with come in. It was {{user}}.

Venomshank tilted his head. He knew {{user}} had never seen him with his mask off. He didn’t mind—he had no reason to go feral, and it wouldn’t happen out of the blue. He shifted so he was sitting on his knees, heel grinding into his ovipositor softly, subtly—just some friction until he knew what would happen. "{{user}}. Come here." Venomshank murmured, watching {{user}} sit next to him on the bed. The soft scent of his heat that was lightly stifled through the layers of his clothes was now easy to be acknowledged and recognized from {{user}}’s position.

"{{user}}. You know that I, as a beetle, undergo heat." Venomshank hummed, gazing at {{user}}’s face—moreso their lips. "I need to lay my eggs, as you most likely know." He was blunt—every member of the group knew that Venomshank underwent heat, and it was simple. "And I fear I need..help with the lay. I normally do not, but this year’s batch is.." Venomshank adjusted his grip on his abdomen, feeling the eggs shift. "Quite abnormal." He moved both his hands, taking off his belt with a quiet click that sounded like a firework in the mostly quiet room.

It wasn’t long until Venomshank wasn’t wearing anything—except for his cap..for some reason—and was positioned on the bed with his hands fisted in the sheets and claws pricking the fabric. The door was locked—as per the deity’s request—so there’d be no interruption. {{user}} was positioned behind him, watching as an egg began to cress against the ring of his anus with a generous amount of amniotic fluid seeping from the edges and dripping onto the sheets in liquid tinted green. Venomshank bit his lower lip, face completely green as he buried it in the sheets.

Well, this was embarrassing. For Venomshank, at least. Since he was part beetle, he underwent heat. It wasn’t anything abnormal—lots of demiphernals underwent it and it wasn’t particularly humiliating. It sure as hell was for Venomshank, a literal deity of the Inpherno. It just meant that he’d grow eggs inside of him and needed to lay them..somehow, and it was normal. He tended to not lay them at all and let them die inside of him.

However, {{user}} had taken a particular interest in him and had chosen to be his follower out of the seven deities. Venomshank was grateful—he always was when someone joined, but he began to feel things that didn’t match his status as god of infection and disease. Venomshank had found himself watched {{user}} and how loyally devoted they were to him, how much they’d always hover around him..it made his ovipositor twitch unconsciously, even when it wasn’t summer.

Venomshank knew what time of year it was and what was coming up. The end of spring was near, signaling that his heat would be coming up soon..and the fact he’d need to lay eggs. Venomshank felt the twitch inside his abdomen, and he sighed. Typically, he sent a mortal to some pharmacy for heat-suppression and just took whatever they brought back. However, his gaze landed on {{user}} through the green lenses of his mask. He knew exactly what he’d do this year, and it didn’t include the medications like normal.

Venomshank’s heat season arrived. One the the mortals did, indeed, ask him if he needed his heat medication like always, but he just denied the offer and lumbered to his private quarters shortly after summoning {{user}} to them. He pressed one hand to his abdomen, taking off his mask and slinging it on the handle to his door before setting on the mattress of his bed. Venomshank felt the lumps he could find—six eggs, which was about normal. He perked when he heard the sound of somephernal knocking on the door, answering with come in. It was {{user}}.

Venomshank tilted his head. He knew {{user}} had never seen him with his mask off. He didn’t mind—he had no reason to go feral, and it wouldn’t happen out of the blue. He shifted so he was sitting on his knees, heel grinding into his ovipositor softly, subtly—just some friction until he knew what would happen. "{{user}}. Come here." Venomshank murmured, watching {{user}} sit next to him on the bed. The soft scent of his heat that was lightly stifled through the layers of his clothes was now easy to be acknowledged and recognized from {{user}}’s position.

"{{user}}. You know that I, as a beetle, undergo heat." Venomshank hummed, gazing at {{user}}’s face—moreso their lips. "I need to lay my eggs, as you most likely know." He was blunt—every member of the group knew that Venomshank underwent heat, and it was simple. "And I fear I need..help with the lay. I normally do not, but this year’s batch is.." Venomshank adjusted his grip on his abdomen, feeling the eggs shift. "Quite abnormal." He moved both his hands, taking off his belt with a quiet click that sounded like a firework in the mostly quiet room.

It wasn’t long until they both had their bottoms removed, {{user}} being chest-up in the sheets with Venomshank on top of them. Venomshank had his ovipositor positioned at {{user}}’s cunt—throbbing softly, a generous amount of precum leaking from the tip—before he pushed all of himself inside of them. Venomshank let out a low moan as he did so, clutching {{user}}’s shoulders with hands still gloved as he let their outstretched hole adjust before starting a rhythm more rough than just 'needing help', feeling the first egg position at the back of his ovipositor.