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Non Uberis

@nonuberis.bsky.social

400 followers 93 following 1.2K posts

I write and color things. I am very confused. He/Him. 33yo. 18+ only pretty please. #nonuberstories #nonuberart #nonubercomms #nonubergaming

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · Oct 17

Here be lewds, 18+ viewers only.

See my other locations here:
linktr.ee/nonuberis

https://linktr.ee/nonuberis

t.co

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 19m

piczel.tv/watch/NonUbe...

I ain't scared of no Non.

Writing, art, and/or gaming.

Probably NSFW.

NonUberis - Piczel.tv

The Uber Channel

piczel.tv

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 2h

Are you interested in:

Funny squeezing?

Angy lizard?

Sleepless cravings?

And nightmare hunger?

These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon.

www.patreon.com/user?u=273837

#nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

“Here’s one of my favorite toys!” the Cuckoo chirps, grinning with excitement.

“Uh…” The skunk can only stare, dumbfounded, rooted in place by astonishment.

The mouse manages to blurt back, “Bruh, that’s a snake you got there.”
“Yeah?” The giant bird blinks back and tilts his head, as if there’s nothing unusual about the enormous serpent that he’s holding.

“Holding” is a rather generous way of describing it, though; he has his wings out and the golden snake is tangled around them and his shoulders and chest and dangling over the side of his belly. Its head rises up in the air, bobbing over the Cuckoo. Its beady black eyes are set upon the two playmates.

Now the mouse is staring, exasperated and confused, and the skunk picks up by asking, “This is a toy?”

“Yeah!” He coos and he pats the snake’s length. “It’s real funny. It’s really good at squeezing things. Here, just watch!” He whispers to the snake and it starts to move, wriggling around and slipping through his grasp. It wraps about his midsection, looping around three times—which is a lot of circumference to cover—and starts to squeeze. The Cuckoo titters in amusement, even though he speaks with greater strain as his rotund belly compresses, flab bulging between the snake’s coils. “It’s like a big hug all over!” he exclaims, smiling despite how hoarse he sounds.

The Reptile knew that it hated the Bird from the moment it first laid eyes on him.

This should not come as a surprise, since the Reptile was filled with an unfathomable reservoir of hate for all things, but this was a special kind of hate.

There was a panic when the Reptile first appeared in the Bird’s realm. Smaller creatures were scurrying around a brightly lit room, shrieking in terror. They reminded it of the pathetic creatures of the Foundation who attempted to understand its nature and to find a means of ending it. And there were other creatures who were different: bigger, twisted, and in some way tainted. Some of these, lolling about in a daze, do not seem to notice its arrival, but they do not appear to be capable of movement anyway.

The Reptile should have taken this opportunity to lash out at some of them, agitated as it was, to maim and eviscerate, but it was taken by alarm in its own manner. It did not understand where it was or how it had come to be here, only recalling a gut-churning lurch and then it was no longer in its loathsome cell. It growled and cursed at the pastel colors all around it, too bright for its eyes. It clawed at the cushy padded floor beneath it and thrashed with its tail.

“Coocoo, who’s this? A new nestmate?” said a loud, obnoxiously cheery voice, giving the Lizard a singular point to focus its anger upon, and it saw the Bird. He towered above the puny cowards, bigger even than the Reptile, but that was not enough of a deterrence to it. It did not think that such a fat and cumbersome thing could pose any meaningful threat. It estimated that it would only take thirty-seven seconds to tear him open and rip out his beating heart.

Nightmare Moon sits up on the edge of the bed and focuses on the empty space within the capacious room. Her horn ignites with cerulean moonlight and produces a bright flash as a figure manifests, producing a loud thump when her hooves hit the floor, rattling the bed and the nightstands beside it. Rarity stands as calmly composed as ever, though the wrinkles around her eyes betray her own lack of sleep, and her mane and tail are loose and she wears a gauzy nightgown draped over her voluminous frame instead of her uniform.

“Do you require pleasure, Mistress?” the mare asks in her obedient tone, and she already has her hands upon her belly, prepared to lift the heavy globe for a view of her plump nether lips.

“No,” the alicorn replies promptly, though her loins quiver ever so slightly. “I desire…calm. I need to be able to sleep.”

Rarity blinks. In the low light, only one with acute vision like Nightmare Moon would discern the thoughtfulness in her expression. She is aware that this is a matter that requires a more complex solution and that she must devote herself to it. “I see,” she murmurs, and her arms move over the top of her bosom as she taps her chin. “I believe that there are some herbs from the Everfree which could be combined into a potent sedative. I could confer with our herbalists and determine what the proper dosage would be.”

But Nightmare Moon grumbles petulantly, tossing her head back. “That would take so long. I wish to sleep now!”

Rarity’s lips purse into a thin frown. “Do you desire alternative methods to induce slumber?”

The costumed civilians scamper away one by one, but Luna keeps her veil held over herself long after she is the only pony left in the clearing. She stands and waits, certain that there shouldn’t be any more visitors this late into the night. The moon hangs high overhead, a lone eye shining upon the world, filling the open space with silvery light. In the Everfree Forest, however, the dark does not allow mere light to beat it into submission.

A piece of night peels off from amongst the trees, a hulking mass of pitch that rises taller than the statue of Nightmare Moon. Heavy hoofsteps thud across the earth, each followed by a wet sucking and popping. Something drags over the grass and dirt. Its form is too dark to discern any anatomy save for a maw that starts to yawn open, ringed with jagged teeth and dripping saliva, lowering closer to the pile of candy in front of the statue.

Now Luna strikes. The veil falls and reveals her, gleaming, immaculate, rearing back as she spreads her wings. Her horn sparks with a flash of light that washes over the dark hulk, and it writhes, howling in fury. “Foul beast!” she declares valiantly, “Thou shalt torment the ponies of this land no longer!”

Only now does the creature’s shape become clear as it stands in the illumination of pure moonlight. It is a huge, swollen thing, only vaguely in the shape of a pony, swallowed up by vast folds of flesh. Its skin, though, is sticky, dripping with an inky tar, with the shape of crescent moon on its haunches. The idea of movement with its bloated limbs seems absurd, and the ragged wings which extend from its back couldn’t possibly lift it into the air. Its face comes into focus, but it is hardly equine, bloated cheeks and neck folds offsetting the elongated, snaggletoothed snout, cold eyes with slitted predatory pupils.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 5h

Z-A is on Switch 1 too, although I'm sure the Switch 2 version performs better

Reposted by Non Uberis

Nubby 💖 @nubbybunns.bsky.social · 1d

PLEASE READ i have $27 to my name rn x.x so opening ANHTHING

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 1d

I mean, he *did* have good voice actors before

The quality of the voice actor doesn't necessarily mean anything though if the direction is bad

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 1d

shiny squeaky squeeze that bulgy

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 2d

If you ever feel like giving it a try, I have space on my piczel multi group

Hope you can find a routine that works well for you!

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 3d

Gives birth to a single full-grown adult chad shark

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 3d

For as goofy and blatantly incomplete as the old live action movie was, I appreciated how they did some things differently from the original to spice things up

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 3d

Almost the entire manga is covered, with very little meaningful content removed despite how truncated it is, and it's clear that the anime was made with fans of the series in mind so the creators were probably afraid to do anything new

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 3d

After finally watching the Uzumaki anime, my takeaway is that its biggest issue (other than the obvious troubled production) is that they weren't confident enough to do much new with the story

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 5d

Are you interested in:

Continued fitting struggles?

Mom technology?

Guardian spirits?

And chaos investigation?

These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon.

www.patreon.com/user?u=273837

#nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

“You look great, Spike!” Twilight Sparkle remarks with a smile.

“Thanks, Twi, I feel great,” he replies, beaming back. This is mostly true, so long as he disregards the anxious butterflies in his stomach (for a dragon, they must be volcanic fireflies). He certainly likes the way the qipao looks on him now that it’s been refitted, and he likes the silky embrace of the fabric draping over his scales. It hugs to his broad, jutting chest, emphasizing that aspect of femininity, but the open sleeves and the slit along the side show off his toned masculine physique (not to mention the conspicuous way the skirt falls over his meaty groin).

His own feelings, however, are not as easy to sort out as those of other ponies, and there are a lot of ponies at the gala tonight. The feeling of so many eyes upon Spike is something that he’s not used to, having avoided the spotlight for much of his life. It must be hard for anyone to miss him, since he stands over a head taller than just about any other creature present at the gala. His stature brings his chest to just the right height that anyone can see his bust rising above the crowd like a breaching whale. He can only imagine what the social atmosphere would be like if he were tall enough that his crotch was in that position.

“I’m glad you were able to get things working with Rarity despite my, uh, miscalculations,” the mare mutters sheepishly. It had, of course, been Twilight’s calculations regarding Spike’s rate of growth that assisted them with making projected measurements for the dragon’s clothing. “I didn’t anticipate such a sudden exponential increase!”

In the gloom, however, the slightest form of illumination becomes drastically amplified, making it not so hard to see the faint glow that emanates from a door that’s cracked slightly ajar. “Hmm…” Vanilla’s motherly intuition tells her that Tails must be doing something in secret, and she doesn’t exactly want to pry, but she can’t just go home emptyhanded while her streaming services are still barred to her. She goes to open the doorway and finds herself standing at the top of a flight of stairs, fluorescent light filtering up from below.

“Tails?” she ventures again, echoing down the stairwell.

Once more there is no response, though she can faintly hear some metallic clattering. There is someone down there.

Once more Vanilla considers turning back, maybe leaving a note. But how will she bear going to bed without checking SpinTok first? Heaving a weary sigh, she starts making her way down the steps. She moves carefully since it’s difficult for her to see the steps beneath her feet. It’s a rather tight fit for her as well, though she understands that a small fox like Tails wouldn’t exactly need to build his workspace for one of her stature. Maybe the loud thumps of her descent will be enough to get his attention.

As she comes to the bottom of the stairs, one more time she says, “Tails? I’m sorry if you’re busy, but I’d appreciate if I could speak to you!”

Still no response, but her long ears perk up when she hears something, a hushed mutter: “Should it be…?”

The shrine is quiet, save for his own hoarse, shivering breath. Fu understands that these are simply traditions, but he had quietly hoped for some kind of sign to indicate that a blessing had been conferred upon him, that the spirits were in favor of his decision. He is still left with the same uncertainty that has plagued him since he formulated this plan to leave home. All he can do is hold his breath as he bows his head low to the ground.

No sooner does Fu’s nose touch the floor than there is a sharp CRACK of thunder, a blinding flash that washes into the shrine. He flinches, but still he remains steady. What instead causes him to rise is when a heady warmth starts to waft over him. He looks up and sees white smoke filling the shrine. The idea of a fire flashes in his mind—started by a lightning strike, or worse by his own carelessness—but the smoke mystifies him. It’s warm and hot like breath, with a bitter tang that cloys in his sinuses. The misty clouds billow all around him, a cloud front swallowing up the shrine’s interior.

Then he becomes aware that he isn’t alone. Something pads through the mist, heavy footfalls. The noxious smoke prevents him from smelling anything, but he can hear the low growl that rumbles around him. A shadow resolves from the ether, striding closer and closer, growing implausibly larger. The shrine is small, hardly more than ten feet across, and yet within the white cloud all sense of space is completely obliterated. When the shadow stands above the dog, it towers over him, seeming to fill the whole world.

“Hmm…this certainly is the result of entropic corruption,” Sunset remarks as she inspects the first tree. Each of her eyes reports a different detached perspective, observing her subject from multiple angles and in varying spectral lenses to isolate the facets of its makeup, physical and magical and spiritual. In some angles, she can see herself, swollen top-heavy form standing amidst the orchard, dwarfing Applejack beside her. It isn’t necessary to go into this much detail to know that something is plainly wrong, but she prefers to be thorough.

The apple tree before them twisted and gnarled and distended. The bark of the trunk bulges grotesquely along its crooked length, blackened as if scorched by fire, leading up to a crown that looks like a huge knot like a clenched fist, looming over the grass. The only branches that extend from it are short and stubby with sickly yellow leaves, drooping from the overgrown, misshapen fruit that hang from them. Sunset plucks one apple and holds it up before her, feeling it with telekinetic sensors; the yellow-orange rind is firm and unblemished, but there is a distinct warmth to it that a fresh apple shouldn’t have. Another flash of her horn and the apple slices cleanly in half, revealing flesh that glows faintly and, for a few seconds, seems to roil like magma before cooling.

“Twilight and I will have to run some tests to determine the exact nature of this transformation,” she declares with grim authority, enveloping the split fruit in a net of compartmentalized void matter. “Suffice to say, these apples should not be considered safe for consumption until then.”

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 5d

a close up of a man 's face with his mouth open .

ALT: a close up of a man 's face with his mouth open .

media.tenor.com

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 5d

I just want firefox to work why is that so hard

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 5d

Heaven is between big bulges

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 6d

absolute nightmare with computer lately

wanted to try switching browsers and now everything's exploding constantly

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 7d

with Legends Z-A on the horizon it feels strange that I just...don't care

I was hyped up for it for so long and now Nintendo's scumminess has me turned off of it

plus feels like a waste to get it for Switch 1

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 7d

I'm not sure I have much to say about it haha, I just thought it was a funny thing to get one time because Richy was doing a YCH for it

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 8d

You can get access to my full catalog of drabbles and previews of other stories by subscribing to my Patreon.

www.patreon.com/user?u=273837

Get more from Non on Patreon

creating Fantasy Fiction

www.patreon.com

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 8d

New drabble selection uploaded.

Featuring ice cream, parasitism, milking, pink, and apple.

www.furaffinity.net/view/62561980/

#nonuberstories #furry #nsfw #hyper #fatfur #inflation #transformation

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 8d

Funny you should mention that extremely specific scenario

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 9d

Yes :')

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 9d

Ideal shape: head as big as the rest of your (also very big) body

Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 9d

Are you interested in:

Rat king?

Unicorn artistry?

Through a mirror steamy?

And fitting struggles?

These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon.

www.patreon.com/user?u=273837

#nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

Heavy footfalls thud and scrape down the hallway, louder and louder, the floorboards shaking as a huge mass drags over them. A terrible odor creeps through the air, biting and acrid, with the bitter tang of blood. A hulking shadow emerges from the gloom, a figure that fills the hall from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, blotting out the view of everything behind it like a solar eclipse. Dim fluorescent lighting reveals scant details at this distance, swollen contours of flesh covered in a matted coat of inky black, a living veil of darkness, and you do not wish to see more of it. Terror wells in your heart, an icy chill that seeps through your limbs, but a rush of adrenaline keeps you thawed enough to turn and—

“HALT,” booms a thundering, multilayered voice that you feel as much as you hear, rumbling through your bones, and all your confidence ekes out of you at once.

There is a chorus of deep chuckles as the footsteps come closer still, underscored by a dizzying chittering drone. The Rat King looms before you, its enormous frame ill-contained by the claustrophobic hallway in which it stands; surely were it to be outside, it would expand to fill the whole sky. A cloak of shaggy fur hangs all around it, obscuring the exact shape of its amorphous, sprawling figure, but not all of the fine details. Its ferocious maws. Its many powerful arms and sharp claws. Its countless eyes, piercing red pinpricks. Its bloated bellies, conjoined abdomens lined with rows of teats. And something upon its head that gleams like a crown.

The monster rumbles five times over, “KNEEL BEFORE OUR MAGNIFICENCE.”

“Hmm…”

Euphoria stares at the page laid out before them. There are a few attempted doodles and scribbles scattered across it, scratchy half-formed figures with loosely defined anatomy. They hold a pencil between their pointer and middle fingers and idly allow it to waggle, eraser thumping on the paper. This motion carries through them in different forms: hoof tapping on the floor; knee wobbling; tail flicking back and forth; horn sparking and flashing, as if communicating in morse code.

Their lips are curled faintly into a smile, yet they do not seem particularly happy with their violet eyes glazed over.

“WE DESIRE TO REITERATE OUR PREVIOUS COMMENT ABOUT THE MANIFESTATION OF IMAGINATION.”

“Shh.” They make a scolding mental clap across Pneuma’s rump. A gravelly whicker responds in their ears.

“YOU DO NOT APPEAR TO BE AS ENTHUSED WITH THIS AS THE WRITING.”

Closing their eyes for a few seconds, Euphoria huffs a sigh through their nostrils and finally ceases their fidgeting. The scarlet fringe along their mane recedes, becoming almost entirely golden, and their ears fold to the sides. “I thought this would be easier for me now,” they murmur ruefully, “I’m not getting angry about my lack of skill but I’m still just…getting stuck.” They hold the tip of the pencil to a vague unicorn face, a circle with a boxy muzzle projecting from it, curved horn and ears grafted on top, curls representing a mane. They cannot muster the will to refine it.

“Where can I try going now?” She glances around herself, looking for any kind of promising clue. She can’t remember if this is even where she was the last time she passed out (she has vague memories of an explosive rupture). A wall of lockers are behind her and there are openings ahead and to the left. There are arrow patterns printed upon the floor tiles, pointing down along the path, but she isn’t sure how eager she is to follow them. The obvious route almost always leads to something disastrous.

But she spies something that glimmers faintly along one of the walls. It’s a flat pane of glass. She strides over to it, curious if it might be a window, something she could break and use to escape perhaps, but no, it’s clearly just affixed to the wall. A mirror, then, though the glass is so fogged over from the steam that she can’t see anything other than a smear of color. Lacking anything better to do, she wipes her palm across the cool surface, squeaking faintly. This doesn’t prove to be such a good idea, because the sight of her face staring back at her, disheveled and morose, doesn’t do much to lift her spirits. She tries to muster a smile, but it’s merely a crude facsimile.

Then her reflection’s lips curl back, revealing a sharp-toothed grin.

Victoria blinks and flinches.

Rarity has just finished immaculately applying mascara to her left eyelashes when Spike interjects “Um, I think there’s a problem” and her fingers spasm, nearly dabbing the inky brush against her brow.

“What is it?” the mare replies, reining in the spike of anxiety that threatens to topple the precarious equilibrium of her present mental state. A problem arising in the final hour before they leave for the gala after weeks of preparation is the last thing she needs.

She turns to the dragon who towers over her, his broad wings furled out into a canopy. “It’s…um…” he mutters nervously, unable to spit out what he means, but it’s clear what the source of his apprehension is. He’s holding his dress, the garment of dark plum fabric that Rarity painstakingly crafted for him, around himself, draped about the shoulders, clasps undone. His cheeks are flushed green and his frills are drooping with embarrassment.

“Spike, darling, please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about your ensemble now,” she pleads with no small amount of desperation, and she reaches out and places a hand on his hip. “I told you, you will look marvelous, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“N-no, it’s…it’s not that,” he stammers back, nodding his head fervently, “I want to wear the dress, I r-really do.”

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 10d

Sharkdragon women

[aiming sights of Garchomp TF cannon]