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fiber-optic-alligator · 4 months

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Desperation vs. Domestication

Pairing: IDW Drift x Human Reader

WARNING: This story contains soft vore. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this story.

Word Count: 3161

Summary: Trapped aboard the Lost Light and chosen by a certain red-and-white samurai mech as the perfect sapien companion and tasty snack, you decide to form a rudimentary plan on possibly escaping your robot captors and finding your way back to Earth…while also realizing that spending months living as a pet has messed with your judgment on a greater scale than you previously realized.

This is based off of an ask I saw on Relic’s blog about what might happen if a human trapped aboard the Lost Light tried to escape via an escape pod, and I liked the idea so much that I had to write something based off of it. This is my first time writing for the Tasty Au and the First Contact Au and I must say I am quite happy with the result. This is inspired by Callsign-Relic’s Tasty Au, obviously, and I am so utterly fascinated with the whole concept, as well with First Contact scenarios in general, that this certainly won’t be my last time writing about this sort of thing. Thank you all for reading and thank you to @callsign-relic for giving me permission to write about it!

Also available to read on AO3!

Here is the link to pt. 2!

Sticky globs of synthetic saliva coat your shivering body as you are carefully slipped out of the massive mech’s cerulean mouth. The red-and-white bot nuzzles you gently with his nose, cooing to you in soft alien words. You don’t understand his language; to your ears, he speaks with the purr of a car engine, the rumble of machinery, the smooth hum of something distinctively much, much bigger than you. And yet, after months of being trapped aboard this titanic starship, surrounded by these massive extraterrestrial robots that have turned your life upside down, you’ve come to comprehend some simple, short phrases your mech typically only says to you: Good. Proud. Love you.

You hate how you lean into his touch. You hate how you cling to these few words you can translate. You hate how your heart softens for him as he sets you down on his desk and begins to clean you up, rubbing his saliva off of you with a towel. You protest softly when he smushes you gently with both hands, struggling feebly before you reluctantly give up and go still. He chuckles deeply and shushes you. “Shhh, shhh….Safe…Safe.”

After a few minutes, he nods to himself, satisfied with his work. You stare at him with the deadpan look of a cat who was just dumped into a bathtub while he retrieves a fuzzy blanket from his bed and wraps you up in it snugly. The part of you that still clings to your autonomy wants to scream and shove his fingers away when he slowly rubs your scalp. It wants to curse him out and tell him you despise him, how you are traumatized because of him and the rest of his kind.

And yet, you can’t.

You know he won’t understand you. You know you’ve developed feelings for him in your weak, pathetic heart. Your bot cares for you. It is obvious in the way he treats you, and you can tell it’s gone beyond seeing you as a pet. He calls you sweet. Little one. He’s never hit you, never yelled at you, and actually respects your boundaries when you express them…sometimes. There are some days where you have clearly shown you don’t want to be eaten. He listens. Those days are few, but they happen regardless. You can’t help but sympathize with him. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, call it delusion, but you are at war with yourself, one side begging you to resist, the other side wishing to submit and accept the role you have been forced into.

Your mech scoops you up. For a good minute, he simply holds you, purring deeply while he traces circles against your back with his thumb. It feels good, and you hate that it does. His heavy rumbles are soothing. Despite what one might think, being eaten, massaged by a mechanical stomach for hours, and then regurgitated is an exhausting experience to go through. You find fatigue tugging at the back of your mind while your eyes flutter shut and you yawn.

The mech coos. “Sleep,” he whispers to you, his voice smooth as honey. “Sleep.”

If this were your first time, you would have fought it. But it’s not your first time, and you know resisting will get you nowhere closer to escaping. Darkness pulls you into its embrace with the glow of his eyes flickering in the background until it too fades away. It doesn’t take long for you to give in.

His name is Drift. That’s the first thing you think when you wake up. His name is Drift, and he saved you from the first set of robots that plucked you from your home and carried you off into space, saving you from one personal hell and thrusting you into another. It did not matter if this particular hell was a rather comfortable one. It was hell regardless. To have your sense of self snatched away from you, to be reduced to nothing more than a pet and a snack, to know you are possibly light years away from Earth and you are utterly alone here is enough to drive you insane.

You sit up slowly and groan, running a hand through your tousled hair. You're still wrapped up in the blanket Drift gave you, and you're resting on his berth. It’s covered with more blankets and even pillows, all courtesy of the mech who has done what he can to make your life here as comfortable as possible. The lights are dimmed. Drift is nowhere to be seen. He must have had some other matters to attend to and decided to give you a moment of solitude while you were resting. It was considerate of him. The sympathetic side of you feels appreciation. All that’s left is relief he is not here to stuff you back into his maw.

Drift does not understand you. In his eyes, you are simply an adorable little creature he has adopted. He cannot speak your language, and you cannot speak his. No level of displaying your intelligence will ever prove to him that you are worthy of being considered a true person by him or the other mechs. Oh, he cares. You know he does. He’s not a bad guy. You’ve seen bad, and he’s a welcome change from it. But he will never view you as an equal. You are simply just an animal in his mind’s eye.

Your fists clench with subdued rage without you even realizing it at first. The frustration bubbles up and leaves a foul taste on your tongue. You’ve screamed. You’ve begged. You’ve done everything you can to show them that you do not belong here. But they don’t listen. He doesn't listen. You're too cute, too tasty. For the first time in your life, you truly wish you had it in you to be a violent person and live up to the horrible reputation humans have given themselves on their own planet. Maybe if you had the power to destroy like the rest of your kind can, the mechs would finally learn to respect you. But human beings only destroy what is theirs. And here? Not even you belong to yourself anymore.

“Damnit,” you whisper under your breath. You haven’t felt this level of helplessness in a long time. Your chest tightens, and hot tears trickle down your cheeks and drip off your chin. You close your eyes and grit your teeth as a low sob heaves up from your throat.

“I want to go home,” you say to no one in particular. There’s no one to hear you. Even the gods of your world are too far away to listen to your prayers. “Please. Please. I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

So why don’t you?

Your eyes fly open.

Wait.

There are escape pods on this ship.

You’ve only seen them once. Drift usually keeps you perched on his shoulder when he travels around the ship and tends to his duties. He’s walked by them before. They’re towards the middle of the vessel, all lined up in single file.

What if you were to steal one?

A plan begins forming in your mind. It’s stupid. It’s risky. It could cost you your life. But you're so scared, and you’ll do anything to relieve that fear. You could return to Earth…you could go home.

You look around Drift’s room, taking in how absolutely massive everything is compared to you. The escape pods will be the same. One single little human will have a hard time piloting it. But what other choice do you have? Sit here and live the rest of your life as a pet?

A part of you actually finds it tempting. But you can’t let that side of you win. You cannot allow yourself to slip into the stupor that is slowly breaking your spirit. You must keep fighting. You must take back what was stolen from you: your life.

Drift is not a stifling owner. He does not demand your attention 24/7. He understands you need your space, and usually, if you protest enough, he will simply coo at you understandingly and leave you in his room for a few hours while he leaves.

You come up with a plan. It’s not a particularly stable one, and there are way too many points where it could go horribly wrong. But you will go through with it anyway, because you don't know how much longer you can take this. You're desperate for release, frantic for an escape from this nightmare reality you are in. You will find a way back home. You can’t give up. You refuse to give up. You are a human being. You belong on Earth.

As much as your plan relies on Drift leaving you alone, it also depends on his presence too. It’s impossible to traverse this starship by yourself. To be seen without your mech companion would lead to some robotic stranger scooping you up and bringing you right back to square one.

So, you will have to trick Drift.

You will use the advantage of your harmless appearance and have him bring you to the escape pods. You could blast away right under his nose and he won’t even know it because his belief that you are just an innocent, adorable little thing who can barely think for yourself is just too strong.

Guilt flashes through you.

He has no way of understanding, a tiny voice whispers inside your mind. It’s not his fault there’s a language barrier between the two of you. He’s trying his best. He’s trying. Can’t you appreciate that?

He views me as a pet, you think back. He thinks I’m an animal. A snack. Is abandoning my will as a human being worth it if it means I please him?

Yes.

The realization makes your heart sink.

Are you really that far gone? Have you become that accustomed to your life here? Have…have you truly been broken in?

The soft whoosh of the room door opening interrupts your thoughts. Drift slips in on silent feet; you still don’t know how such a large mechanical creature can move so quietly. He doesn’t look at you, and instead trudges to the mirror attached to the wall opposite his berth with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging low. Through the reflection of the mirror, you can see him staring at himself with a complicated expression. His mouth tightens and his hand rises to slowly begin tracing the metal beneath his eyes. You watch, with growing concern, as he just…looks. He’s observing his features, taking in every scar, every dent in his armor, every sign of age.

He vents out a soft exhale. With a surprising amount of weariness, he takes his swords and places them on their display stand.

“Drift?” you call out to him.

He turns to focus on you. His eyes immediately soften, and his grimace uplifts into a tired smile.

He looks so much older than he really is.

Your heart twists painfully. All of your previous foul thoughts towards him vanish as your empathy takes over and you raise your arms to make grabby hands at him. This is a language anyone can understand: Pick me up please?

He wastes no time in obliging. Swords and reflection forgotten, he makes it to you in four long strides. Gentle fingers push the blanket aside and free you from your fabric burrito. They curl around you, holding you in his right palm while he slowly lifts you up and slips his left hand under to support you. You no longer feel the queasy flip of your stomach turning circles from the dizzying experience of watching the floor grow further and further away. That reaction was long lost with your time here.

He presses you to his chest. The metal is warm, and deep within, you can feel the steady beat of his heart. It thrums through your entire body and causes you to shudder with awe. This is an alien being, one you hardly understand. Yet, he has a heartbeat. It connects the two of you, in a way. As your heart begins to beat in tandem with his, you feel so small. Yet…it helps you feel for him all the more, because it proves he is alive.

After a few minutes of hugging you, Drift lifts you higher. The soft blue glow of his eyes washes over you as the mech observes your tiny face. There’s a moment when he pauses, and then his thumb caresses your cheek, lightly running over the stains decorating your skin from your previous bout of tears. His smile falls into a concerned frown.

“Little one?” he whispers. He knows what tears are. You’ve heard him cry himself to sleep some nights. So he must understand you are not in a particularly good headspace right now.

“Drift,” you whisper back. He whines when he hears how your voice trembles. With great sadness weighing his expression down, he brings you close and presses his lips gently to your forehead.

You automatically freeze, and your eyes widen in shock as you feel the slightly plush metal against your skin. It’s so…intimate. All too quickly, you melt into the embrace, closing your eyes as a fresh wave of emotion washes over you and threatens to unleash the waterworks again. You sniffle and cling to him. “I hate that I’m enjoying this,” you quietly say.

He hums in response and slowly pulls away. The smile he offers you is so sweet, it makes your heart skip. You feel like a foolish schoolgirl in love. It’s the wrong emotion for the wrong person in the most wrong scenario you could ever imagine, but it feels so right.

He leans back in, and you think you are going to receive another kiss. But then his mouth opens wider and you have a full display of the squishy segmented tongue that’s shifting in eager anticipation for the taste it desires: you. Strings of saliva connect between metal teeth as large as your head. Inside, there’s light that softly pulses with the same color as his eyes, and it runs all the way down into his throat, illuminating the journey you know you are about to take. Fear jumps through you. “Drift,” you say, pushing frantically at his fingers. “Drift, wait!”

“Shhhh,” he murmurs. There are some incomprehensible words that, to your ears, sound like the garbled slurs of a broken radio. Your mind works overtime to comprehend. “Little one…safe…comfort…”

Oh.

He wants to comfort you.

You feel absolutely disgusted with yourself when you bite your bottom lip and contemplate his request.

Unfortunately, Drift doesn’t give you a chance to decide whether to accept or not. Apparently, your tears are really worrying him. With one last reassuring purr, he delicately pushes you into his mouth. You yelp when his tongue curls around your little body to begin slicking you up for a smoother ride. Drift rolls you around carefully, tasting every inch of your exposed skin with happy hums of pure pleasure.

You want to fight off the large muscle and demand he open his mouth to release you. However, you know there is no point. He’s not listening to you today. He believes this is the only way to bring you the reprieve you need. So, you give in. You go limp and allow your mech to toy with you.

He presses you to the roof of his mouth and suckles gently. A low moan rumbles up from within him. You are delicious. You know you are delicious. The way he savors you both terrifies you on a raw, existential level, and also makes you feel…wanted, in a way. He wants you. He cares about you. This is just another way of him showing it.

Eventually, his tongue lowers, and everything goes tipsy as Drift tilts his head and begins to push you towards the back of his throat. You instinctively scrabble at the base of the biomechanical muscle, but you cannot stop yourself from sliding back. When you look behind you and see the pulsing metal waiting to slurp you down into its dark, wet confines, you want to scream.

“Glk.”

One gulp.

That’s all it took for Drift to swallow you.

It is extremely unnerving to be reminded of how small you are.

You are sucked into Drift’s throat with no resistance. The glow of his mouth sticks with you while you are squeezed downward from all sides by the soft, moist walls of his esophagus. You wriggle as much as you can, but it is virtually impossible to move due to how tight the passage is. You find yourself holding your breath as you close your eyes and try to remain calm while you listen to the steady sounds of his internal systems working to keep him alive: the heavy thudding of his heart. A rhythmic intake and outtake of air that is eerily reminiscent of human breathing. There are other low whirrs and hums you cannot identify as well. All consuming. All just for you to hear.

Space opens up beneath you, and you drop into his stomach with a wet plop. The organ gurgles, welcoming you back like an old friend. You bounce a little as the floor jiggles, then you find yourself sinking into the mesh metal. The walls close in, squeezing you, kneading at you, all while a melody of rumbles and groans fill the space. You pant, taking a moment to catch your breath as you lay on your back and stare up at the soft biolights all around you, filling the stomach with a comforting hue.

Something presses against you from the outside: Drift’s hand. Above you, the mech says something. His voice is soft, yet loud at the same time. You are utterly, completely surrounded by him. Locked away behind all of this metal, you truly feel like you are his.

For some reason, this is not as scary as it usually is.

You sit up and try to wipe saliva off of your face, but only succeed in smearing it all over you even more. Drift speaks again. “Little one?” His tone is urgent, worried. The stomach growls with nervous trepidation.

You crawl on your hands and knees to the organ’s wall. Sitting up, you press your hand into the wet muscle, watching as your fingers sink into the squishy grooves. “I’m okay, Drift,” you murmur. “I’m okay.”

You feel him relax all around you. Drift presses his hand right over where yours is and rubs you tenderly. You cuddle up against him and close your eyes, listening to your mech’s happy purrs, enjoying the feeling of being constantly massaged by his stomach.

It is warm.

You are warm.

You no longer want to cry.

Maybe…maybe you can put off your escape plan. Just for a little longer.

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depravitycentral · 9 months

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what would be a yandere like feitan's reaction to his darling squirting the first time they finally are intimate?

Tw: squirting, virgin Feitan, no protection, implications of stalking, Feitan is insecure, Stockholm Syndrome, you're very sexually pent up and the months of being stuck with Feitan and only Feitan has really affected you, one extremely brief mention of vore, Feitan walks in on Nobunaga jerkin' it, fem reader

Listen, I know this is wistful daydreaming, but if we're being honest here, this would never happen. Feitan is a stone cold virgin; the kind that's never even willingly watched porn - or, at least, any porn not featuring a grotesque amount of vore, questionable consent, and moans so high pitched and frequent that it might actually be screaming. That, coupled with the fact that he's so awkward and nervous around you - especially in the context of sex - results in, frankly, less than mediocre sex. At least, the first time.

But it's fun to fantasize, so let's discuss!

Feitan knows what squirting is - loosely. He's heard about it before, sure, and accidentally walked in on Nobunaga doing something that really, really should've prompted him to wear headphones and lock the door. He's aware of what it is, but it's a combination of surprise, confusion, and a sudden and suffocating wave of arousal when it actually happens that leaves him with wide eyes and his lips slightly parted - the closest thing to shock you'll ever see on him.

There's surprise, because Feitan had been so hesitant the whole time he was touching you. He'd bent you over and practically shoved your face into the mattress, too busy staring at the curve of your ass and your pussy to really notice the telltale signs of his nerves. He wanted to seem confident, dominant, knowledgeable, but there's this ever so slight tremble in his fingers as he runs them up and down your sides, this hesitation in his hips when he's fucking into you, this sense of anxiety surrounding him because he really, really needs you to like this as much as he does. And the first time you come - because it takes much, much more than once to squirt - Feitan's honestly shocked.

He's heard how difficult it is to make women orgasm (mostly from Phinks and Nobunaga who, frankly, aren't particularly reliable sources of information), and the fact that he'd managed to do it with just his fingers, some eye contact, and a few careful, purposeful rubs at your clit has him feeling equal parts amazed and proud, because he did that. All those months of stalking you, watching you touch yourself and analyzing the speed and positioning of the toys you used has truly paid off. He's boastful, and it helps boost his confidence just a bit and lessen the tension in his shoulders.

Because now, he doesn't have to worry about making sure you like this. You came, so you'll want to do this again - and now, he can come without feeling pathetic because he's only just moved on from fingering to fucking, and it's been about a minute but he's already ready to burst.

But then you come again, and Feitan freezes up again.

This isn't supposed to happen. He's suspicious, now - there's no denying that your muscles spasmed around him, you cunt fluttering and sucking him in, and your cries and the way you trembled and writhed are certainly convincing. But how did you reach your high for a second time? He was just fucking you; quick, rabbit-like thrusts while he half-heartedly rubbed at your clit, and surely that's not enough, right? He starts to wonder if you're faking it - maybe you're a really good actress, and maybe he shouldn't feel so confident that he was actually able to do it and make you feel good.

He's hesitant to keep going, but he'll be damned if he doesn't finally get to come inside you, so his hips start moving again.

But then you come for a third time, and Feitan decides that you must be making fun of him. There's no fucking way he's making you feel this good - his insecurities (things that've been buried for a very long time, and things that he tries not to think about) come rushing to the surface and he crawls back to that closed off, distant persona, effectively rebuilding any sort of barriers that he's managed to break down between you for the last few months of your captivity.

He's literally pulling out, his expression turning sour (though his cheeks are bright pink from exertion, pleasure, and embarrassment), shame creeping up his spine along with anger because god, is he really so bad at this that you have to pretend to such an extreme degree?

But then you're reaching out behind you, your sweaty hand wrapping around his wrist, your voice strained and breathy as you look back at him and say no, please, give me more, please Feitan! And it's difficult, really, for him to decide what to do - on the one hand, he won't stand for having you humiliate him like this. He's a fully grown man, your captor, an internationally feared criminal, and the one indisputably in charge. But on the other hand, you're begging for him, asking him to stay inside you and keep making you feel good, and he's never seen you look at him with such yearning, such honesty, such need.

He'll scoff under his breath (though there's no malice) and settle back into you, his hips rutting noticeably faster, balls clapping against your clit over and over again, his eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure begins mounting fast, almost too fast.

He wants to hold off, to prolong this feeling - this warmth, this soft, fluttering feeling in his chest because you want him, but you just feel too good, the friction and warmth of your walls making it impossible for him to hold off any longer.

Except, right as he nears the edge, his eyes going wide then fluttering closed again, his lips catching between his teeth and his breath getting heavy and harsh and labored, he feels it.

It's wet, it's warm, and it's foreign. It's like something is spraying him, right on his balls, dripping down his thighs and leaving him sticky. Immediately he jerks back, cock slipping out of you, concern and discomfort making him stare wildly down at your shaking hips and ass, only to freeze.

There's this clear liquid gushing from you, landing on him while you tremble and shake and - he's now realizing - you're practically screaming his name. Your voice is strained and your face is pressed into the mattress, your arms having gone limp as you babble and cry out. He can't move, even as it peters out, your whimpers getting quieter while your shaking stays.

You squirted.

You just fucking squirted.

Because of him, and the pleasure he was giving you.

That's not something you can fake. He doesn't care how good of an actor you are - that was real. That was for him. He was making you feel good enough that you'd just done something he was mostly convinced was only possible in porn - all because of how good he was making you feel.

You can't see him, but suddenly you feel him - his cock is in you, hips moving so fast you can only gasp and let out something between a yelp and a gasp. He's fucking into you so fast that it's leaving you dizzy and disoriented, the aftershocks of the pleasure making your fingers and legs feel numb. You're shaking again, a constant stream of cries falling from your lips, but he doesn't relent.

How can he? You - the woman he thinks he's in love with, the woman he's spent literal months fantasizing about and thinking of every waking moment - and your body just showed him exactly how he affects you. You just showed him how badly your body craves him, how he makes you feel, how much you need him.

And as his orgasm descends upon him, his hips moving at an animalistic pace, uneven and stuttering, the sensation of warm cum flooding you only heightens the sensitivity running through your system, your brain feeling like mush and your muscles limp.

And Feitan, as the pleasure fades and the liquid coating his thighs starts to dry, can only heave, his chest rising and falling quickly. He's still staring down at you, dark eyes studying the curve of your back, your pretty ass, the way your hair is messy now from being rubbed up against the pillow your cheek is smooshed up against.

You're pretty, he thinks, in a way he hasn't really thought of before. Of course he's attracted to you - it's something he's tried to deny for months and has only recently really fully accepted - but something's different now. You're different.

You're different because you want him now. You showed him that, even - just how badly you crave him, just how much his touch affects you. It makes him giddy, this boyish, weird pride and warmth swelling in his chest, and it has Feitan rushing to the bathroom, wetting a rag (the rag is stained pink from previous hand washings, the blood mostly having been removed but the color remaining) and returning with quick footsteps, too fast to be considered normal.

He pauses for a moment and simply stares - you're still out of it, ass perched up in the air and face buried into the modest pillow, your legs still shaking, and he can see the remnants of both you and him. He can see his cum leaking from your quivering little hole, white standing out against your skin and a glisten coating the inside of your thighs from your little show. It makes him swallow, the wet rag in his hand feeling refreshingly cold against his body - his body that's growing much, much too hot.

The sight might just be enough to get him slotting himself inside you again, really working at your clit and maybe even pinching your nipple, his lips at your ear and voice husky, dark, strained as he tells you do that again, we won't stop until you do it again.

In short, although he's initially skeptical, Feitan really, really likes it. It gives him the vailidation he's craving, because it means that he was successfully able to get you feeling good, and this means you'll probably be eager to strip down and spread your legs for him again. And just that thought alone makes him jittery, his fingers tapping against his palms and his weight shifting from one leg to the other because god, it felt so good to be inside you.

It makes him feel proud and more comfortable around you, to the point where it's frankly a massive positive boost in your relationship. He's a little less nervous and jumpy around you, and he'll get more confident with touching you in general - whether that's sexual, intimate touches, or even just interlocking your fingers or idly resting his hand on your thigh.

It's a step in the right direction, surely - but be warned, once it happens, Feitan is expecting it to happen again. Every time. No exceptions.

And you - who'd really only even managed to squirt because it's been months since you've been touched in any way by another human being, and the Stockholm Syndrome has kicked in now and almost makes you like him - will have to deal with an insatiable Feitan.

Good job, you've created a monster.

#_lee discusses #_feitan portor #_hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere feitan

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antimony-medusa · 8 months

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Please Consider The Implications Of Assigning Every Character Dad In The Tag, I Am Begging You

Okay so we have to discuss something here.

I know a lot of people are coming in QSMP from DSMP, where the primary fandom focus, so to speak, was on underage creators. In that setting, and in an environment where people are heavily against shipping, assigning people into a family dynamic makes sense. I have my woes about the flattening nature of family dynamic but seeing a few teens and a few adults and going “siblings and parents” makes sense.

Not every environment in this world is that environment though, and sometimes certain dynamics in an open environment has *connotations*. In the same way that if you have a parent helping a child bathe that’s one thing but two adults in the shower is an entirely different tone, in the same way that an adult threatening to punish a teenager is either corrective or abusive, depending on the setting, but an adult threatening to punish another adult tends more towards “kinky”, if you have Grown-Ass Adults who are like 12 years apart in age and you are insisting they have parent/child pseudo-adoptive relationship, you did not necessarily make it automatically platonic, you just made it kinky. Looking at an older man and going “Dad” and getting the warm and tinglies about that and the idea of them taking care of you when you are an adult— there’s a term for that. That’s a Daddy Kink. That’s where Daddy Issues jokes come from. That’s not a thing where the first or only read is platonic. Platonic reads certainly exist, but for your broad open audience of the whole internet it’s not necessarily the first thing they think of. It’s literally fine but guys. Please. I’m dying here.

I have no problems with a daddy kink, it’s one of the myriad ways to navigate the mysterious knot of impulses that is human sexuality. You can even do kink in a non-sexual way, and plenty of people interact with kinks like fearplay, vore, bondage, hypnosis, predator/prey— I could keep listing them here— you can interact with that in a way that is honestly non-sexual. But that doesn’t mean it’s non-kinky. You are doing a kink. It’s fine to be doing a kink. I am an adult talking to adults about this. Kink is fine. But like, you have GOT to realize at some point what you’re putting in the tag.

I’m fine with shipping! I’m fine with kink! I just would like the kink on my dash to acknowledge that it’s kinking on something!

If you find older people strangely compelling and you want to trust them and you want to call them dad and have them take care of you/a different character you’re focused on, that is fine. If you want to focus on the relationship between a “parent” and their “little” who are both adults, again, fine. Honourable way to navigate the world. We all have fun here.

But I am BEGGING you to realize that certain dynamics have connotations when everybody involved is adults, and constantly going on about how someone is dad-coded or dad-shaped when you are not like, 15, it has a *vibe*. It has a vibe is all I’m saying! And it’s not a platonic vibe!

If you are looking at someone who is 21 fucking years old and you are focused on finding them a dad from an assortment of men who are just over a decade their senior, you are either infantilizing them like whoa or you are doing a daddy kink i am sorry to tell you. If you are constantly talking about how someone who is a decade older than you is dad(dy)— like, please. This is inescapable. My kingdom for people who approach my guys without this lens. If I have to see you doing this to Niki Nihachu I’m going to throw myself into the sea.

#QSMP #philza #fandom meta

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thebottomfromhell · 4 months

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can i please request the upper moons +muzan falling for a human female reader please? i kinda wanna see how they treat reader different ( cause akaza don’t hurt women)

Ok, female version of this post, then. Again, it won't be pretty, Reader being a woman instead of a man won't make most of these guys act much different, since the reaction was more focused on Reader's humanity than the gender/sex. But they would feel it very differently, considering that this guys would be sexist AF (reminder that being sexist is more than hitting women).

For this time I will not be adding Muzan for tha sake of making something more abour him later (Sexism is an important topic for this prompt, and I am still figuring out how to make traist of his) sorry for that. :''/

Uppermoons reaction of falling in love with Human Female Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers, Reader's death, Cannibalism, Yandere behavior, Mentioned torture, Non-consented body modifications (becoming a demon), Implied non-con sexual content, Predatory-animalistic behavior, Münchausen syndrome, Vore elements (not in a kinky way), Implied child abuse, Typical sexism of the time period, Mentions of menstrual period, And Each of these is a warning on their own.

Gyutaro (ft. Daki):

First things first, Daki loathes you. She sees you as hag trying to steal her big brother away from her. Good luck so she doesn't kill you.

"I have my eyes on you, you whore! I'm watching!" .... brats.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro knows he likes you but he doesn't want to acccept it. Liking a human? It's acary, a weakness against other demons and slayers.

Also, he is sure you won't want him, an ugly freak with a lady, what a laugh! He can't trust you, specially if you say you want him back. It's a lie.

He doesn't know how to behave with you, the only person he ever loved was his sister, and he was never able to tell her "no", and he is sure he won't be able to say it to you too. That is scary.

You have a lot of power over him, he protects you, takes care of you, obeys you when you tell him something, but he stays away most of the time.

He looks at you, yearning, to the point it's obssesive. You never leave his head.

Daki, because she has been also looking, knows if you do something, threats and destroys your things, protective over Gyutaro.

"Daki, ne... cut it off." "BUT ONII-CHAN!"

Make a move yourself, or this will continue until you die, since Gyutaro will also protect you from his sister, but won't be able to stop her completely. She hates you.

He won't force you to anything, respect you, understand you have it hard as a woman without him, so he won't hold it against you id you want to leave. Or at least he will try not to.

Still, against him? You will always be free.

Gyokko:

Gyokko is fast to figure put what he wants you to do, that he wants you to stay, even if it takes a bit more time to figure out how he feels about you.

You fill his taste, there is no mistake, and his tastes are the best. So he makes sure to praise you almost as much as his ability to choose.

"You are beautiful, no canvas can compare to you. Look at yourself and tell me I am right, that you don't deserve my praise and attention."

He will teach you a bit of his arts, even if he doesn't really expects you to learn in the same "profesional" way he does. Art for women is a hobby, and if it gets as far to be a job then they must abandon the idea of having husband and children.

Then again, he is not a husband, and having him gatting you away from human standards and society might give you the chance to be a true artist.

He eats parts of you as punishment id he thinks you crossed the line, but he is more lenient he would be if you were a man. "Woman are more fragile and hysterical, of course you I need to be understanding."

3 strikes is a foot in his mouthes, 6 to the knee, 9 all the leg. You can only have so many strikes before becoming more a burden than you are worth, without limbs.

You can beg for him to turn you or die, neither way he will make a piece of art of your body before your death. You will be sublime no matter what, but life will only come with begging.

He will make you stay awake through the pain, he will open you up a hole in your stomach, mold it into a form that represents the new birth. He will take away your organs, use your blood as make-up, dress you up nicely in red and white.

He won't even take a bite off as he pours his blood in the new hole, making you his forever.

Hantengu:

He cowers away at the slightlest chance of falling in love.

He disappeared, almost from thin air. Hiding... from a human... Upper 4 for you, ladies...

He comes back to cry about it, sobbing and sometimes hurting you with his clwas by accident as he grabs you.

He had several wives in his life as human, he knows how to treat them, or at least he should know, feeling pressured.

Why can't he just treat you like he treated them? Why is he so scared? He knows he is not doing it right but he can't bring himself to be charming and behave as a gentleman.

He is aware of his flaws, and id terrified with the idea you will leave him for it, even if he is not around most of the time, coming back and forward, comes to cry and then leaves.

Are you food? Are you beloved? Are you useless? Are you beautiful? Are you conforting? Are you nice? Are you about to die because of him? Are you going to reject him?

He will stab you in your sleep, or in an argument, he killed wives during those before. All with a knife instead of his abilities as a demon.

He didn't have to be a demon to kill women and children, and he is really sorry, but you had to die for his sake.

Sekido:

Ok, you have three seconds before shit explodes, so if you run you might save yourself.

3... 2... 1... "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT?!" There it is, that is all it took him.

A few days he kept think of you and he knew... you fucked up. You must scape until he calms down.

The fact that a fragile human, a defenceless woman, can make his heart beat faster and his face blush is simoly embarrasing. He hates it, it makes him angry, it makes him feel vulnerable.

The other clones are your best bet to get it this far, go for Karaku, he will keep you alive only for the sake of teasing Sekido.

Both of you know you will die, the more the likes you, the worse he will feel, and he will take it out of you.

You are just a human, you won't be able to survive him unless you become a demon, but he will not accept your refusal. He won't even tell you.

The relationship becomes stable in your new form, he just bites your neck and opens his wrist with his nails to transform you.

"Don't you dare trying to get away from me, woman."

Karaku:

"Gonna rock your body all night, it's lust at first sight" - probably Karaku if he knew Chris Crocker.

That is your chance for survival, and you take it, making him chose lust over gluttony.

He does threat of getting rid of you, but he makes sure to get you money, besides the flirting and gifts, considering he is aware he basically ruined your chance of a married life. He teases you about it when he feels cruel.

He makes sure to pleasure you, even if you don't want to, you don't get to make that choice.

It does take him more years than if you were a man to realize this is not normal lust, but that he is romantically attected to you.

He decides to transform you into a demon, doesn't warn or ask, when he realizes it.

He does it during sex, he bites you, moaning against your new wounds and the taste of blood. He will open his neck for you.

He will offer yourself to you once you wake up as a demon, memories lost and replaced with hunger and thirst. Not remembering the cold feeling of losing blood against his skin.

"Hey love~. Spend the night with me, will ya? I am all yours now, show me what you can do with it~."

Urogi:

Good news, Urogi doesn't want to hurt you.

Bad news, Urogi will hurt you anyway.

It's not even on purpose, he just gets carried away when he plays with you. He is not the most aware of the clones, so playful scratches and bites become dangerous.

He chases you sometimes, always wants attention, to play with you.

He likes to stay with you while you sleep, cuddling against you, sometimes you find him smelling around your scrotch when you are in your period, keeping his face around the area like a dog...

He gets bored of your limitations rather easily, so he decides to try to turn you i to a demon, consecuences be damned.

The last straw is a night when you have your period, the bited part of your legs your thighs, excited in different ways by the scent of ruined blood and vagubal fluids.

Then he will bleed into you, biting his own wrist off, feeding you chunks of his arms after spreading the blood over you.

He will chew and feed you mouth to mouth if it troubles you, only wanting to play with you, the new demon you.

Aizetsu:

His priority is that you are human.... and again, he is rude and hurtful about it.

"It's so sad for both of us. You can't be enough for me just like I can't be what you need. Pathetic." This bit-

Just a heartbeat put of place and knots in the throat were enough for Aizetsu to figure it out, and he didn't like it.

Humans are meant to die, besides, he can't be the husband you would need.

Still, he takes the chance of comfort, to pretend for both of you. He manipulates you into feeling pity for him, and that is how the relationship is formed.

He does kill you, painless and softly conforting you first, the second it becomes a problem.

He will also let you have your last words and wishes, will tell you that he wishes he could have been husband material for you.

He makes a memorial, kisses your corpse goodbye before leaving you behind.

"This is so sad."

Nakime:

Truth be told, she is not surprised.

She can see the appeal in you, she has always prefered women over men, Muzan being the exception, even if he is the exception of many things.

Nakime is very lenient with you, she understands that, as a human, you are more fragile than her, so she must treat you carefully.

She would not put you above Muzan, but she takes care of you, gives you gifts, spends time with you, praises you. You are a lovely lady to her.

Still, unless he approves she will not be transforming you. If he does, she will without any second thought or opinion.

The breaking deal is the next one, she kidnaps you for a while and the leaves you safely at your home. She controls all the interactions.

Why should she listen to you? She adores you, but you are still a human, nothing worth her obedience.

She would not kill you, no matter what. The only way you could die like this is suicide, age or ilness.

Then again, at the end Muzan decides to let her turn you, so he bleeds into a cup and feeds you ger blood, not letting you out until you do.

Akaza:

It starts when Akaza accidently calls you "Koyuki..." the first time you met. He fell hard and fast, and in a painful way.

He begged you to stay, not really knowing why. He cried, grabbed your legs as his knees stayed on the floor.

He needs you, craves for you, to the point of obsession. It takes him a while for him to realize he could turn you into a demon, because part of him venerates the image of a human girl with pink eyes and cheeks.

He can't hurt you when you deny him, but he wants to. He needs to, you have to understand why you should want to be a demon. Why you should want to be forever young, strong and healthy, to stay in the way things were before the poison in the well.

At the same time, he wants to take care of you, and he starts inviting himself to your house, doing the chores and watching you sleep.

He doesn't understand why he is always cheking your temperature and if you are breathing correctly, there is something relieving but also off putting when you always are ok. As if you should be sick.

Maybe part of him wants you to be sick so he can take care of you, but he can't hurt you.

You can't get rid of him, no matter how much you try, he always ends tucking you to bed and forcing you to stay in there until you sleep. He never listens, always treat you as if you were fragile and sick.

He learns how to make your favorites, cleans the house and laundry, starts getting money and pretends to nurse you, even if you don't have anything.

He doesn't know how to feel when you die of age, it's the only way you could die like this, but he breaks. Again.

Sometimes he still calls you Koyuki.

Douma:

Douma starts comparing you with Kotoha and his mother, he is quite vocal about it.

He tells you how silly you are, that his mom and Kotoha were the same, but each of you had your charm.

Yes, "had". He mostly talks about you in past tense, ge is planning to eat you soon. Kotoha almost scaped him and his mother became "too irrational, killed my father with a knife but poisoned herself" with time, so he wants to spare you the chase.

He talks about your face, your eyes, your hair and skin, mostly, he does things he did with Kotoha, hoping to make you laugh. Simple pleasures, not meant to last.

Both women left him, he is 100% sure you would if he gave you the chance, so he doesn't. He kept you by his side for some months, at most.

You are fun to be with, and he is sure he is fun to be around with too... maybe. Not that it matters, you don't really have a choice. Your words against his.

Also, turning you into a demon would give you the chance to run away while he is in a meeting with the other moons. How silly and stupid would it be from him!

He has made his mind to eat you the second he notices that, whatever he is feeling, this lust hunger, this craving, is like Kotoha's.

Because of his experience with her, he will make sure it's in his room, to make it right this time. Also, he will break your leg first, so you can run, coveribg your mouth and cooing you as you try to scream.

He will eat your tongue and lips first, complimenting the taste and texture, in a soft kiss, not really caring if you want it or not. That way you won't be able to formulate your screams for help.

He starts eating you from below, wanting to finish with your head and eyes since he had to blow Kotoha's. He doesn't want to repreat the regret of ruining such a pretty face.

Douma takes his time with you, talking softly and gently, praising you you taste and feel in his mouth, praising how you look.

He is more than satisfied after he finished, stomach full and you forever inside of him. Lovely.

Kokushibou:

This is the first time in his life that he wants the attention of a woman that isn't his mother.

He never felt attracted to women (or anyone, even if he always felt more in place sharing his life with other men), his wife included, he married her as his duty of producing heirs.

Having a woman by his side has always been a responsibility at best, a chore at worst.

But he wants you, and he can't understand it. It's new and confusing, that is the only reason he notices a few days after he catched feelings. Because loving women, wanting women, it's not normal for him.

He watches you, even yearns for you, but his pride and confusion don't make him do anything.

He blames you, resents you, calls you "a temptress" in his mind. What have you done to him? At least he doesn't conpare you to his his brother, but his other relationship with women don't let him relate you to a pleasure.

You are also human, meant to die like his mother and wife did, meant to be remember just as someone's husband and mother. Why are you stealing his attention, then? There is nothings special about you.

But this way it's easier to pretend he doesn't care the moment you die, easier than with Yoriich.

You are lovely, he keeps you around, but besides that? You are just a woman. A pause from his life as a samurai demon at best, a distraction at worst.

He will resent you after you die, but he will also forget you the same way he forgot about the other women in his life. There are only two people in his life with any importance, one was a boy to a man, the other is his King and Master. Women were never important in his life.

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #kny x reader #karaku #urogi #aizetsu #sekido #gyutaro #hantengu #daki #gyokko #nakime #akaza #douma #kokushibou #female reader #this is royally fucked up #x2

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sillyromance · 2 months

Note

Can you make comfort vore? From Optimus?

Hello, dear evelyntyecrqzy!

Sure! Here you go!

P.S: there is angst and one heavy word in this work. Also I've written it from the first person's perspective... I really hope you don't mind it.

Have a good day and take care!

***

- How do you feel, little one?

It was late evening; almost all the lights were gone, the only bright area was Ratchet’s lab: the old medic was staring at the big green screen, typing aggressively on the panel and mumbling something inaudible. He was too busy to pay attention to anything else. The rest of the team left to their quarters after they had brought the kids home. No body had shown any signs of life since then.

I was lying on the couch, curled up in a tight ball. My head felt heavy and hurt; I felt cold and lonely. It was hard to hold back sobbing, but I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention - nobody cared anyways. Why would they? Were my problems that important?

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears running down my cheeks violently as my shoulders started shuddering...

And then I heard his deep, gentle voice.

"How do you feel, little one?" - I turned my red face to the huge mech behind me. Optimus Prime, my guardian. Through the cacophony of my thoughts I hadn't heard him coming. His blue optics far above glowed with concern.

I hurried to wipe the tear tracks from my face and stand up, mumbling something like: "Sorry" or "It's fine, don't bother yourself..." But as far as I did this, his large servo wrapped around me and very soon I found myself sitting on his plain rough palm, being swirled with his kind, sad gaze. I felt nothing but guilt, though the only reason for it was my depressing mood. I couldn't look straight at him, turning away over and over, rubbing my hot cheeks in attempt to get rid of the tears. I hated myself for the mess I had become – I waited for him to throw me away as far as he would get a good look at my ugliness. However, Optimus didn't seem disgusted with me at all.

- Did someone offend you? - The mech asked again with the same sincere tenderness in his tone.

I shook my head negatively.

- Is it something in your body?

I closed my face with both hands and shook the head even more violently, crooking.

- No...

- And what’s about your soul?..

I sniffed silently; choking sensation dug its claws into my throat as it let out a pathetic "Mm-gm..." and I nodded. Everything in me just fell somewhere down; I felt my poor heart beating hysterically in the stomach. There was a crazy mix of panicking fear and complete indifference. I was trembling, wishing to be left alone. But even more, I wanted to be comforted. I wanted someone to embrace me and whisper soothing words, to say that it was going to be OK, to stroke my hair as if I was just a kid. But wasn't it too much to ask? I didn't dare to believe Optimus would bother himself to spend time with such a puny, pathetic creature.

After this cut through my head, I couldn't keep myself from crying anymore – I literally burst out.

- Hey, look at me, Y/N.

Hesitantly, I obliged. I was ready to see disappointment or distaste, but instead...

- There is nothing to be embarrassed with. Do you want to talk about it?

I wasn't sure if I heard him right. Did he really... worry about me? Of course, as my guardian, he should have, regardless... Wasn't I dreaming?

- W-what d-do you m-mean? – I replied indecisively.

- I thought, perhaps you could share your pain with someone. Sometimes it helps. - A small, understanding smile appeared on his faceplate. - I'm sorry... It hurts my spark to see such precious little thing crying.

I lost my ability to speak for some seconds.

- Does it r-really? W-why?

Prime's eyebrows lifted up in surprise.

- Because you matter. You're my friend, Y/N. Friends help each other, don't they?

His gravely voice had already had its way with me. My shudders calmed down and though my eyes were still wet, I couldn't help but smiled back at him.

- Thank you... for this... But I don't want to talk right now...

- It's absolutely fine...

- ... I'm very, very tired, though. - At the moment I said that, my spine weakened and I collapsed at the flat, warm surface of Optimus' hand.

Something childish, basic, something from the abyss of my wild, subconscious core suddenly arose inside me and escaped my chest with barely audible plead.

- Please... Don't leave me here...

A quiet sigh rambled beside me; my entire figure was washed with warm air of his exhale.

- Don't worry, Y/N. I won't.

His digits closed over my tiny form. I wasn't able to see a thing anymore, but I could say for sure that we moved away from the place.

Quite soon the sounds of Ratchet's work faded away. Optimus opened one of the many electric doors and walked into a somewhat room - I heard a soft "whoosh" as the panel shifted back to its place. My guardian set me free on his berth, and only then I understood that we were in his private room. Sitting down beside me, he spoke even gentler than before:

- You are out of energy. And so do I. But still, I don't want you to stay alone...

Do you trust me?

I nod, already predicting where he was heading to. Cybotronian friends committed this small ritual with humans regularly; many were fond of it. However, I had never tried it with him. I couldn't claim that I was completely inexperienced too, but those previous times were emergencies which I couldn't truly like – they were harsh and distasteful like a rotten fruit. Now... It promised to be much more intimate. And it depended only on my wish.

I glanced at him through my eyelashes - I was too sleepy to keep the eyes wide open - and murmured:

- I do.

Optimus nodded. I was lifted up again - straight to his mouth.

Slowly, controlling every his movement, my guardian guided me inside his maw and laid my feet on his squishy glossa - there was a faint blue light twinkling at the back of his depthless throat illuminating a humid, warm chamber. Thanks to him I didn't even touch the sharp dents – their deadly blades loomed right above me, but stayed harmless, serving simply a reminder of what power Optimus actually had over me. The glossa curled around my legs as soft, thick blanket, then released them and I was pushed further to the glowing entrance of the esophagus.

I stared down, processing what was about to happen. I appreciated the leisure pace Optimus chose with me; his gentle licks and steady, rhythmical ventilating brought me nothing but comfort and peace. I sensed my toes in his pharynx and waited for inevitable with dull thrill - to be unceremoniously drugged into misty, humid confines of the muscles’ trap, to be deafed and choked. That what I was usually met with before, every time I was gulped down. However, when Optimus swallowed, his artificial, metal flesh contracted just slightly, pulling me so carefully inside that I almost missed the moment. It was like... A hug. The next swallow was just a little bit stronger - I gasped as he let his hand go off me and my tiny being got engulfed into his soft throat. It felt better than anything I knew before. Surrounded by the pulsing alien flesh, I finally felt protected and loved – the state I sought for so desperately all that fuckin’ day.

For some time he just held me there, his head titled back. I didn't make a move, trying to avoid hurting him. Living heat of his soaked into my bones and made me so drowsy that I thought I would fall asleep. However, at that moment the muscles came to action and lovingly tugged me deeper. The light grew brighter, though it didn't bother me at all; I was easily slipping in a long wiry tube constructed from the smaller ones, thinner and more solid, poured with viscous, bubbling energon – I was watching little sparks floating in there as I was passing by and a weak flame of forgotten happiness flickered in my soul once more.

Finally, I arrived at his fueltank. Its walls greeted me with a friendly squeeze, forcing me to curl into fetal position. I didn't cry anymore; all my worries and demons disappeared long ago, at the second I heard: "How do you feel, little one?"

God! I was so horribly wrong. I thought no one needed me, that I was lost, abandoned... And still, there was someone who couldn't bare me cry.

I felt Optimus' servo laying down on the lump I must have made on his waist, caressing me. I rubbed my head against the spot where I could recognize the pressure and smiled.

I did matter.

#soft vore #extreme cuddling #safe vore #transformers vore #transvoremers #willing pred #willing prey #tfp vore #optimus prime vore #hurt/comfort #comfort vore #angst #vore angst

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pietropudge · 4 months

Note

we need a series of the onlypreds professor PLEASE

part 2! (read part 1 here -> lessons)

a/n — decided to make these a bit shorter to keep up with posting, plus I'm juggling some longer requests, so the vore in this one is also quite short. I promise, Mr. Grayson will get feed good in a future part!

summary — So, your teacher is a pred... it can't be all bad, right?

words — 1.8k (again, shorter, sorry!)

warnings — vore! anal vore and some light smut (not proofread)

~~~

It had been about two weeks since you learned that your favorite teacher was a world-class predator. Well, if you count the forty-one and dwindling subscribers to be the entire world. In Mr. Grayson’s eyes, they might as well be. So many videos already existed of him devouring people on OnlyPreds, which was proof enough that the whole world could be in danger of his appetite, no matter your popularity or status or wealth. It only determined what cut of meat you were to him, from ground chuck to a flake of tenderloin. All of it was just seasoning, tenderness, and irrefutable texture on his tongue, vitamin E from the fat in the human body for his large loads of cum, and most importantly, the feeling of being full for his ass.

You had oriented yourself well to his needs, taking up the responsibility of grading all of his papers and assignments so that he could spend his days and slow class periods perusing the halls and high rises of various apartments in search of his next snack. It was like opening the cupboards at home and expecting the food to reappear as he checked in each restroom, doing his usual sweep when he didn’t have a class to teach. Normally, the teachers were simply expected to check the student bathrooms for vaping and kids that were ballsy enough to ditch class but still show up at school. If they were found doing any sort of drug-related or blatantly culpable activities, then they had to take a walk with the teacher to the principal's office. But Mr. Grayson was different. He appended himself to some rules, but he knew that others didn’t work. Punishments the school administered weren’t enough to really change the youth in the way that he wanted to see it happen. So, he frequented the restrooms to catch and instill a level of fear that the school wasn’t willing to take the lengths to go to.

Arnie—his name was. Mr. Grayson had seen him taking several hits of his vape upon entering the bathroom. He tried to hide it up the sleeve of his hoodie, the cuff being taut enough to hold it against his wrist. Mr. Grayson moved to the opposite side of the bathroom, pretending to stand at a urinal and relieve himself with his pants unbuttoned and lowered. His now-untucked dress shirt was the only thing preventing his ass from being exposed to the harsh fluorescents of the school bathroom, one move away from being vulnerable. But he was more like a predator circling his prey in the final stand-off, Arnie still stiff as he washed his hands with the thin vape being just one wrong move from slipping out and exposing himself.

One waits for the hiss—the initiating attack. As Arnie turned the faucet handle, he went for the hand dryers along the wall that connected the polar sides of the room. It was waist-high, his hands naturally sitting level with the hungry hole covered by a thin veil of fabric. Mr. Grayson met him in the middle, lifting up his shirt so Arnie’s wet hands would go someplace warm, but not to dry. It was almost avoidable, but the swiftness of Mr. Grayson and the careful—yet slow—motions of the student as he maneuvered with care to keep his vape suspended meant that his hands couldn’t pull away fast enough. His wet hands made it easy to slip right into Mr. Grayson’s crack, his hole doing the rest of the work to pull them in all the way up to his wrists, wrapped around them tighter than his sleeves. They detained him like a thick pair of handcuffs.

“And what’s that I feel?” Mr. Grayson clenched his cheeks, pressing Arnie’s wrists closer together so that he could feel the mouthpiece of his vape digging into his palmar. It ended up slipping out of his sleeve and onto the floor, just out of Arnie’s reach, and that’s when the dread started to build.

Arnie spewed out the usual pleas about how “he wouldn’t do it again!” He promised, cried, and begged all the way until his face was pulled in, followed by the rest of him. Mr. Grayson particularly favored the part where Arnie’s cheeks were smushed against his own, his speech slurred and muffled as he twisted his head in every direction to avoid going into the dark depths of his ass. It only added to the pleasure felt, each hot breath exhumed in a panic only made him think about snuffing it out. Mr. Grayson also liked to think that he represented something to those who couldn’t stay clean, showing them how shitty things could really get.

All the while, he filled you in on this as you were forced to stay after class, listening to his symphony of belches on a loop. He let you sit at his desk while he sat on the desk, threatening to split the wooden parts of it down the middle with his extra weight. You had to tell your job that you needed fewer shifts on the schedule in order to finish the workload Mr. Grayson dumped on you. To think that all of this started because you found his dirty little secret, which felt more as if he was holding it over your head. Of course, he was still making you pay to watch his illicit recordings. He made you pay for these talks, too, where he filled you in on every excruciating detail that he could find to make you squirm. You pressed your legs together underneath the desk in an attempt to alleviate the hard-on he was giving you.

“And then he was, lighten up a little!” Your teacher laughed, eyes following your motions as you flipped through another student’s essay. “It’s almost like you don’t care about me being well-fed. He felt great, his bones really snapped into place. I think he learned his lesson.”

"Oh, here, I saved this for you," he said, reaching to presumably his back pocket, taking a second to dig out the aforementioned vape from his story and place it on the desk. "I had to confiscate it, so it might taste a little like my hole, if you know what I mean. Just don't let me catch you hitting it." He was back to laughing at his own jokes.

You were too busy trying to finish the work he had given you. You couldn’t leave—well, you hadn’t tried, but the possible result of doing so seemed to be futile—until the work was done. Entertaining wasn’t a requirement to finishing the work, so you focused on getting the final paper before you done. It was turned in by a kid who wasn’t as verbose as his peers, only filling the front and back of a singular page with his written report. This last paper would be your key to going home for the night if you weren’t interrupted by the predator whose thighs and stomach filled half the damn desk you worked on. Slowly, his weight was peeled from the desk and he came closer to you. Mr. Grayson’s hand wheeled the chair out from between the desk to expose your lap, his little story about his latest meal making you pitch a tent. “I think you need to learn yours.”

“Relax, I’m not going to eat you… or, am I?” He snickered, his ass planted firmly in your lap. You were still unsure of his intentions, and he could play with them easily. What was left of Arnie filled the space between your two bodies. It was enough to rest your arms on, but you kept your elbows and forearms glued to the armrests. The rumblings of his stomach could still be felt on your chest. “Besides, there’s something else I want you to listen to.”

Mr. Grayson started grinding down on your crotch, stimulating you through the bottoms you chose to wear today. The motions of him pressing against you elicited another burp from him that went directly to your face. “I need help growing my audience. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been getting less engagement. You’re a… you know. What could I do to grow it? I got the eating part down, but I just need the viewers.”

“I’d start with some thirst traps. Anonymously, of course. Maybe a page for your ass? Fuck, I don’t know…” You knew that you needed some kind of release. The weight of him, the way it was almost crushing every bone he sat on, his legs split to make room for his stomach, which was a concoction of gurgles and physical shifts as it moved the processed remains of your classmate inside through the bends of his intestines. Just the physical touch alone from that was enough to drive you to the edge, a far cry from what his videos did to you every night.

“You can do better…” He said, rocking his hips against you faster.

Another wave of meaty breath his against you, repulsive and reeking of copper and salty meat from his latest meal. You offered another idea to him, “I’ll start a rumor?”

“Better…” He said, ceasing movement. The idea wasn’t good enough for him.

“Make a gainer account? You can fill your belly—fuck—pretty well.” Your hips pressed up into his immovable weight. “And you keep adding on to your ass a lot, so the results would draw people in. Plus, you can post it across a shit ton of websites. Not just OnlyPreds. You—you can tease them with the aftermath of your meals, too. Cut off the videos right before it gets good?”

“That’s good.” He said, bringing himself back to his feet and depriving you of his sensations. He was already listening to you by cutting things off just before they got good. “I’ll finish this paper, you go on home and take care of that.”

You grabbed your school supplies, heading out into the dark of night. School ended at three on the dot, and here you were, working the clock to help out your teacher. Your car sputtered and fought with you all the way until you got home, most of it caused by the neediness you had to come. By the time you pulled into the driveway, your phone had buzzed with several notifications in the cupholder of your car. There was either an impossible walk into your house, or, you could just look at them right now.

Lo and behold, a post was uploaded already. Mr. Grayson must have lived closer to the school than you because he had already made a new account with his first post. It was pretty standard—a few pictures of his belly and a full backside view to show all of the ways his gains benefitted him. The account was under the same name as his OnlyPreds—good, that was good for traction. You could feel yourself pitching a tent already… yeah, the more content, the better for you. Maybe being his bitch wouldn’t be so bad.

#male prey #male pred #male vore #v.ore #digestion #v0r3 #vore x reader #v0re #same size vore #fatal #nightwing vore #dick grayson vore

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teal-fiend · 4 months

Text

The New Hire

An assistant for a wealthy business owner is given the task of hiring a pred to perform at their party

Content: fatal vore, digestion, observer pov

—

The assistant had a party to plan. It was part of their job as a personal assistant to one of the most terrifying people in the world. Although their employer never did anything terribly illegal, the assistant had the feeling that there were dark things happening that even they didn’t know about.

There were dark things that they did know about too. For example, their bosses' borderline obsession with predators.

Their boss had a kind of motif for the unconventional and disturbing. Their company crest was a serpent, which is already a devious animal. Instead of collecting valuable art, like a normal rich person, they purposefully bought forgeries that had been in museums and books for years before they were discovered. They bought houses where tragedies had taken place. And they loved finding old jewellery with no one left willing to inherit it.

Despite, or maybe because they weren’t a predator, the boss effused about preds whenever the opportunity arose. Telling the assistant about famous people who were preds, or business associates who were. However, this was an avenue of themselves that had yet to be truly indulged. In fact, the boss had never hired one before, the assistant suspected they went out of their way to avoid it. Until today.

One of the things the assistant had to organise, was finding a predator to be at the party. This is how the boss phrased it: “I want you to find one who can keep down their prey, who can keep still for several hours. Maybe one who has experience as a figure painting model - I don’t know - I don’t really care, I know this was kind of last minute.”

It was last minute, it was the day-of.

“-But, just as long as you can find a predator who doesn’t have ‘stage fright’ or ‘performance anxiety’, someone moderately professional - that’s really all I need. You will pay them whatever they ask, of course. I know it’s a strange request, but it would really bring something to this party; there’s a few people I want to scare the shit out of, and this'll do it.”

The boss hired them for a reason: the assistant could get anyone, at any time, exactly where the boss wanted them. They had many, many feelers. And it didn’t take them long to get a bite.

One of their scouts had found someone who was free that night, a pred, a masters student, broke and willing to take a sketchy job. But their LinkedIn looked reliable, and they worked at a local theatre. They played the donkey in a modern rendition of MidSummer Nights Dream... A perfect hire, really. They could probably handle some weird shit.

The new hire was picked up and delivered to the event’s location on time (one of the bosses’ cursed apartments, a place where they specifically hosted parties). The assistant took the opportunity to formally debrief them.

“You will be dressed and prepared by our costume designers, and the hair and makeup team; we have a few other performers that you need to match - you’ll meet them soon. Your job after that is to consume the prey provided for you, you only have to eat one, and then you must begin digesting and continue until you are dismissed. The choreographer will guide you on how to compose yourself before you begin the performance.

If you need a break, there’s a discreet button you can press, you will be able to go backstage for a short time, and someone will get you what you need.”

The pred looked overwhelmed, but eager to impress them. They nodded and said something, but the assistant was already busy with someone else.

—

An enclosure was set up for the pred and a couple other performers to be contained in. The rest of them would be serving drinks, or performing other acts in separate areas across the venue.

The enclosure was visible from most angles, almost in the centre of the room, although there was a backdoor that the performers could exit from. Inside was like a small, midas forest, with faberge-like flowers and funguses. It matched the decorations of the rest of the venue, except it was more dense and atmospheric.

The enclosure was inaccessible to the audience, although there was no actual barrier, more of a circumference of props that would be impossible to navigate. The assistant had requested this, so that the view of the performance would not be obstructed.

Soon, the predator emerged, glittering under the moody, dappled lights. They had in contacts that made their eyes a solid, iridescent gold. On their back was a thin cape that looked like butterfly wings. On their head were some kind of horn or antler piece, decorated with primrose blooms. On their arms and legs were a metal lace, with a flowing transparent garment over top.

The curves of their body, especially their now plump abdomen, was lined with the finest paint brush, of intricate, organic patterns. They looked like a bounty, the cornucopia, or a paegan god. Their prey visibly wriggled under their skin, trying in a futile attempt to escape the stomach acids that were just beginning to release. The movements of the meal made a strange optical illusion under the temporary tattoos, it glittered as it shifted in the dim lights.

This was not the same person who came in two hours ago. Frazzled, mousy-haired, rectangle glasses, exceedingly average appearance. The person who the assistant was looking at really wasn’t a person at all. It moved, but it wasn’t a person.

The assistant was impressed, to say the least. They’d have to give credit to the makeup department. Maybe even give them a raise. Maybe.

They’d have to hear what their boss thought about this whole thing. Was it too much? Where was their boss anyway?

The assistant suddenly got a sinking feeling. Had the predator they hired somehow eaten their boss? But no, just then, they appeared behind a crowd of people. Although it was early, it would only get more crowded later on.

The assistant watched their reaction closely. Laughing at some joke, their boss turned to look at the stage. Their eyes went wide, but only for a second before they regained composure and guided their group forward to get a better look at the performance.

---

The assistant stayed close to the predator for most of the night, this was not a time for them to network. And they also made sure two security guards stayed nearby, just in case any guests got carried away and tried to get in the enclosure.

The other reason they stayed by, though, is to gauge reactions of the guests. Their boss couldn’t pay close attention to these things, but if the assistant gathered data, they would be able to tell how successful the idea was.

There were mixed reactions. Some guests gawked like the pred was a zoo animal, trying to get a reaction from them, which thankfully was unsuccessful. The most the pred would do is stare at a party-goer, unspeaking, with their emotionless, ethereal golden eyes. The pred did it once to the assistant, a good, long stare, and it did send a shiver down their spine. It was a primal fear, being spotted by a predator, their belly obviously full of one of your fellow prey. But were they still hungry? Am I next? What was going on behind those eyes…? Even though the assistant of all people knew it was an act, they couldn’t help but endure those thoughts.

Other guests let the assistant know that they thought it was obscene. A predator out in public, digesting a person alive, right in front of everyone? It was frankly unacceptable. And dressing them up didn’t make it any better. The assistant listened to these people sympathetically, but unfortunately for them, this was exactly the reaction that their boss wanted.

The party went on and the pred laid down on a kind of mossy platform that the enclosure featured. They spread across it languidly on their side, belly resting heavily on the moss. They traced gentle patterns on it with a clawed fingertip, tracing the curves of the prey.

With a slightly sickening realisation, the assistant noticed the prey wasn’t struggling any more. They knew this was what happened when one put prey in the stomach of a predator, but they never had seen it happen in real time. They couldn’t help but feel a sense of injustice as the pred lay there smug, satisfied, petting at their engorged belly.

The assistant shook the thought away. It’s what the boss wanted. What the boss wants, the boss gets.

—

It was getting late, many guests had already left. The assistant looked for their employer, who wasn’t hard to find.

“Boss,”

They were wearing all black, like an oil spill.

“You’ve done well today,” they said, “I’m impressed, I’m inspired, I have so many ideas. Everyone was upset about it- it was great. And the predator…” they sighed. “Perfect. Maybe a little over the top with the costuming, but the idea came across perfectly.”

“Thank you.”

“They’re a keeper, don’t you think? I’d love to see them here again. In fact, let’s go over there right now.” The assistant was led back to the main room with the enclosure.

Another sinking feeling. The pred’s stomach was rounder, the curves that the pred had been tracing were faint if not non-existent. And now that the party had died down, the assistant could hear the stomach over the music growling, murmuring, with deep digestive gurgles.

The boss clasped their hands together, “magnificent. Look at how far along they are already - what a brutally efficient stomach you have,” the boss said to the predator.

The boss rarely complimented people. The pred rested a hand on their stomach, maybe self-consciously, and avoided looking at their audience.

“They won’t acknowledge you,” the assistant reminded their boss, “by your request.”

“Oh I know.” the boss waved their hand, “and that is how I want it to be. More mysterious that way. People fear what they don’t understand, you know.”

—

After the party was over and the boss went home and to bed, the assistant still had work to do. Packing down, making sure everyone got paid.

By the time they next saw the predator, they had reverted back to their former selves; wearing the clothes they arrived in, make up washed from their face (except for a faint gold smudge), and their eyes were brown and with pupils again. They looked tired. It was nearly 10am, they had been on location for over 12 hours by this point. Still, when they saw the assistant, they sat up straighter and anxiously waited to hear what they thought.

The assistant looked down at the pred’s bloated stomach. They thought about warning them; They might not want to put up with the bosses’ antics.

They should get out before it is too late.

But then again, the boss wanted this pred, and what the boss wants, the boss gets. The assistant was the last person on the earth who would sabotage that.

So all they said was “well done,” and gave the pred an envelope with ten thousand dollars cash. They would be back.

#v.ore #soft vore #digestion #vore digestion #implied digestion #vore fic #v/ore #tw vore #fatal vore #vore writing #voreblr #v0re #same size vore #vore talk #observer pov

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celiciaa · 7 months

Text

ELBERT GREETIA EVENT STORY....

EPILOGUE.

His pet doll.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

trigger warning: smut, vore(?) ( i've been feeling uncomfortable when i was working on this chapter, but i'm posting it for those who's curious about the ending...please proceed with caution 🫠)

minors and ageless blogs dni.

Elbert: ….Even if your appearance and form change, you are still beautiful….I'm lustful for everything about you.

Elbert: …So I want to eat you...show me everything.

Elbert: …Just only for me. ….Kate.

Lord Elbert's fingertips took off the doll's nightgown/negligee,

It makes me look the way I was born.

Elbert: ….Kate, come here.

Kate: ….Lord Elbert. Ah…

He holds me in his palm and presses his lips to my naked body.

He licks every part of my body, and his caress is the same as always.

The feeling of being loved makes my body melt more and more into a lewd manner.

He sucked my breast with his lips, and I couldn't help but cry out on Lord Elbert’s hand.

Kate: …It feels good…Lord Elbert….

Elbert: …Cute.

Elbert: …. I just want to put you in my mouth…and eat it.

Elbert: ….I wonder...if I eat you, we can be one...

(…..)

His crazy love that lurks behind the tenderness and his bottomless greed that drives his desire.

(I want…to be one with you. I want you to take all of me.)

Kate: All right...if that's what you want, Lord Elbert.

Kate: …Eat me…

Elbert: ….Kate.

Lord Elbert’s thin lips parted as he gently lifted me up, wrapping me in cotton.

(….Really...just like that?)

Lord Elbert’s tongue lapped my toes.

Kate: Aah….

Then he takes me in his mouth, all the way to the base of my legs.

The temperature of his luscious mouth and the immoral feeling of surrendering one's entire life to him made my whole body go numb with sweetness.

After biting softly and sweetly, Lord Elbert stopped, feeling reluctant.

Kate: …Lord…Elbert?

Elbert: …I wish I could eat every strand of your hair….

Elbert: It's too good to waste...so I won't eat it yet.

Kate: …Too good to waste?

Elbert: Yes. I'll eventually eat all of you...after you stop breathing.

Kate: Ah, Lord…Elbert….

Elbert: Kate…look, you’re dripping on my hand.

I’m soaking wet because I want Lord Elbert's heat.

Normally, I would like to have him inside me.

Kate: …We can't become one tonight. ..How I wish I could make Lord Elbert feel good too….

Elbert: …Kate, don't look so sad.

Elbert: …Just looking at you is more than enough…

Lord Elbert removed his belt...and pulled "it" out.

Elbert: I'm already feeling good….

I want that between Elbert's legs, I want to satisfy him, I can’t help but feel heartbroken.

We looked at each other as if sharing the same emotion and smiled at the same time.

Elbert: …I want us to look at each other like we always do when…we are connected.

Kate: …Yes, me too. I want to…do it too. …Together.

Lord Elbert used his hand to stroke himself.

Elbert: Hm…ah…

Elbert: Kate…Kate…

Kate: …Lord Elbert…

Elbert: …Kate…

The way Lord Elbert stroked himself while staring at me made my heart flutter.

As if being moved by the sight of Lord Elbert, I also sink my fingers into my wet area.

The wet squelching sounds resonated between us.

(I don't care if things don't go back to normal.)

(But...I want to mingle with you..as one.)

I couldn't get enough of those blue eyes staring at me.

Kate: I want to kiss you…Lord Elbert...

Elbert: I want to kiss you too. …Kate.

Kate: Hnn…mm…

When we pressed our lips together as we both desired, Lord Elbert seemed surprised and suddenly pulled away.

Elbert: …Kate.

Kate: …Lord…Elbert?

Elbert: …

Elbert: You’re back…to normal.

(Eh…ah!)

Reflected in Lord Elbert’s blue eyes, I was back to my original form.

Kate: How all of a sudden….

In fairy tales, a sleeping princess awakens with a kiss from a prince.

But there's no way something like this could go back so conveniently...

Then, to my surprise, Lord Elbert hugged me.

Elbert: …It doesn’t…matter.

Elbert: …As long as you’re by my side.

This time, we kissed each other as if we were fighting for breath, and tangled ourselves on the bed.

Lord Elbert licked and bit all over my body and…

Kate: Aahh…nnn…

He sank himself between my legs.

There’s the stimulation that makes me go crazy when he penetrates my body.

Kate: Haa…aah…it feels so good…Lord Elbert.

Elbert: …Me too. …Kate…

Kate: …Yes….

Elbert: …I love you.

Kate: I…love you too.

——

As I have returned back to normal, my days with Lord Elbert pass without any change.

The only thing that has changed is that Mr. Roger has captured me as research material.

After completing my role as a subject, Lord Elbert and I arrived at a deserted flower garden.

(Lord Elbert stopping Mr. Roger from trying to draw my blood...was kinda cute.)

(You’re a little violent to be so loving even though you're angry.)

Elbert: …Why are you smiling?

Kate: Just remembering when you were stopping Mr. Roger.

Elbert: …This is no good.

Kate: Eh?

His hand slides across my cheek.

Elbert: Don't laugh and smile when you…think the others.

I was surprised by his words, and then I was so charmed by him that I loosened my lips,

Lord Elbert smiled as much as I did.

Elbert: …I was lying. I just like your…smiling face.

Elbert: But...when we're together, don't think about anyone else.

(Ah, jeez….)

My cheeks stretch slightly while my chest feels warm.

Kate: It is more difficult to think of others when I’m with you.

Elbert: …Me too.

Elbert: …I’m only thinking about you.

A gentle breeze sweeps Lord Elbert's golden hair.

Lord Elbert had been staring at me while I was weaving a flower crown,

He suddenly parted his lips.

Elbert: …What would you do if I became small?

Kate: …If Lord Elbert becomes small.

Just imagine how lovely it would be.

Kate: Fufu, I might just eat you up.

Elbert: ….

Elbert: …I want to eat you too…what should I do?

Lord Elbert, who muttered as if he was deeply troubled, was so endearing that I couldn't help but smile again.

That strange day when I was small taught me something important.

(Whether our shape and form change, nothing can change our love.)

Kate: …I'm sure nothing will change.

Elbert: …I see.

Elbert: …I'm glad I fell in love with you.

Kate: ….Yes. Me too.

Kate: I'm glad I fell in love with you too.

I placed the blue flower crown on Lord Elbert's head.

The sight of my lover smiling in front of me was the most important thing to me today.

▸ [ previous ]

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen series #elbert greetia #ikevil elbert #cybird #ikevil translations

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toast-tales · 6 months

Text

Christopher's First Time

A look into the life of a 15-year-old Christopher, and what it was like for him to meet his first ever human. Not sure if I'll continue this later, but I wanted to share what I had so far.

Contains: language, anxiety/panic, vague mentions of domestic violence/verbal abuse, and unwilling but safe vore. About 4.3k words.

13 Years Ago

He could hear the rough, uneven steps coming down the hall, instantly recognizable. Every nerve in his body twitched, suddenly on high alert, though outwardly, his body didn’t betray any sign of distress.

His eyes darted over to the clock next to his bed, nestled on the windowsill. Six o’ clock, right on schedule. It was a routine. Get home from work, watch TV, get surly and wasted. It was always a gamble whether or not Christopher’s door would get thrown open so his dad could “check up” on him. Not that his dad cared enough to ask how he was doing in school or anything—he usually just needed something to yell at.

Christopher lost focus on the book he was reading, and no matter how many times his eyes scanned the words, nothing stuck anymore. The pages started to swim together in his mind. His fingers gripped the edge of the book a little tighter, and his heart began to beat in his ears a little louder.

The footsteps got closer, taking the same path through the house he’d committed to memory. They stopped just outside of his door, and Christopher held his breath, waiting for the sound of his doorknob turning and the inevitable, senseless berating.

But then his father continued down the hall, as if he’d simply lost interest in Christopher altogether. And from the sound of it, he’d simply found a new target for the anger—something in the kitchen that hadn’t gotten cleaned properly.

He wished he could block out the sound of his parents arguing back and forth, but his ears picked up each word clearly, even through the walls. He grimaced, tossing the book down onto his bed and drawing his knees in to his chest, trying desperately to cover his ears.

Every fucking night. Why can’t he just shut the fuck up.

He hadn’t eaten dinner yet, and he was sure at this rate it was going to be forgotten about again. If he went out there to check, he’d just get yelled at.

Perhaps it was because he was so hungry, but a scent caught his nose—faint at first, then stronger, until it almost assaulted his senses completely. His head snapped up—he recognized the scent. He’d only ever smelled traces of it on his father, but he knew what it meant.

Human?

But this wasn’t a mere trace of a human’s scent—this was an actual human, close by. His head swiveled around until his eyes landed on where his nose led.

There, on the floor across from where he sat on his bed, was a human. An honest-to-goodness human, staring at him with wide eyes and frozen in place.

There were a multitude of things that ran through his head in that moment, but the one that seemed to take precedence was I can’t let him catch me with drugs in here.

Without thinking, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and landed on the floor, mindful of his weight distribution to keep his footfalls silent. The human, upon seeing his sudden movement, gave a tiny yelp, its entire body tense and ready to dart away.

Christopher held up his hands reflexively as he crouched down, as if to calm a wild animal. I’m not going to hurt you.

Now that he could get a better look at it, he found himself studying the strange creature rather intently. He knew that humans looked sort of like miniature giants, like dolls, but he’d never anticipated the resemblance to be so…uncanny in real life. This one seemed to be male, with short brown hair and sharp features. He looked rather…unkempt, for lack of a better word. His clothes were tattered and worn, and he seemed to be covered in dirt and grime. His hair stuck out at messy angles—clearly, this human had had other things to worry about besides his appearance.

He didn’t look at all like the few humans he’d seen in movies. Those had always been made to look perfect—if they were real at all, and not fake replicas. This one looked like he’d just finished wrestling a rat out in the wild.

The human took a step backwards, but he didn’t run—Christopher could tell the human’s focus was split between him and the loud shouting going on a few rooms down. The sound made the human wince—it likely seemed much scarier to someone only a few inches tall.

Whatever the reason, Christopher was glad the human hadn’t dashed away yet. He kept his voice low and quiet, though he knew it was unlikely his parents could hear him with the volume of their own “discussion.”

“Hey. It’s okay.” Christopher slowly lowered his hands, though he didn’t move any closer. He spoke slowly and deliberately, though he didn’t think the human would be able to understand his words. “I’m a friend.”

The human’s eyes remained wide-open and full of fear. He almost looked nauseous as he looked Christopher up and down, his posture only relaxing slightly.

Finally, though, the human spoke up timidly. “Y-y-you’re fucking huge, man.”

Christopher’s eyes widened a bit, his head tilted in curiosity. “I didn’t realize humans spoke English.”

The human seemed just as confused as Christopher was, though his eyes kept darting back and forth towards the sound of his father’s yelling.

“Don’t worry about him,” Christopher muttered, a bit of resentment coloring his tone. “It’s just my dad. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just…what are you doing here?”

“I…uh…” The human seemed to shrink further into himself. “I snuck in,” he squeaked. “I nearly got killed trying to make it out there,” he said, gesturing towards the window, “and um…figured I’d take my chances with the house. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

Christopher hurriedly made a shushing sound as the human’s voice increased in pitch. “Keep it down,” he hissed, though he tried to keep his voice gentle so as to not scare the human more than he already seemed to be. “I don’t want my dad to hear you.”

“Right, right…” The human seemed to take a few deep breaths, calming himself, before he stood up a little straighter. He tried to speak confidently, though there was still a healthy amount of wariness about him. “I’m Joey. What’s your name?”

Christopher wasn’t sure why he was surprised that the human had a name—he’d just never thought about it that way before. He found himself blinking a few times before answering. “I’m Christopher.”

“You’re…what, a teenager, right? You look pretty young.”

“I’m fifteen.”

“Uh-huh.” Joey jumped at the sound of what seemed to be breaking glass coming from the kitchen. “Listen, Christopher, I don’t want to be any trouble, but…do you know somewhere I can stay that’s…safe?”

“Uh…no, I don’t.” Christopher had only heard vaguely of human enthusiasts in the city that supposedly made secret places for humans to live. But there definitely wasn’t anything like that in Red Tree. “Sorry.”

“Okay…” Joey said, a little cautiously. “Look, could I just…stay here for a bit? It’s raining outside. I nearly drowned earlier.”

Christopher had barely noticed the sound of the rain picking up outside—he’d been far more distracted by the sound of the storm inside the house.

That’s right. He couldn’t possibly survive outside in this weather.

He swallowed nervously, keeping an ear out for the sound of his father getting closer. “I…listen, I can’t let my dad catch me with a human—”

“You can hide me, right? Listen, anything is preferable to dying out there. You can stuff me in a drawer for all I care. Just don’t send me back outside. Please.”

Christopher shook his head. “Your smell. Your scent is…really strong.” It was making his own stomach twist in knots to inhale it—he couldn’t put words to the sharp scent. It wasn’t like anything else in the world. It was totally distinct, almost alien—but not unpleasant. Not at all unpleasant, actually.

He found his mouth watering slightly, and his empty stomach growled.

No. That’s disgusting. You’re not like him. You’re not going to EAT this human.

Despite his mental protests, he found that he was curious. It was a common enough thing—everyone ate humans in secret. Even some of his classmates had done it—or at least, talked like they’d done so. Smelling this human now, he could see the appeal—the scent twisted around his lungs and teased the back of his tongue, all but begging him to get a taste of this human. Of Joey.

He’s got a name. He’s a person—you can’t just eat him. Even if it’s safe.

“Yeah, okay, kid, I haven’t exactly had time for a bath—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Christopher said, grimacing slightly from another painful, hungry twist of his stomach. “I mean giants can smell humans really well. My dad would find you.”

“...ah.” Joey’s face looked a little paler all of a sudden. “Does your dad, uh, have something against humans?”

Does he not know…?

Christopher felt a bit awkward all of a sudden, not entirely sure how to go about explaining to Joey that humans were drugs to most giants. He didn’t want to scare the poor human more.

Could he keep Joey in his room? He might be able to get away with it. His father’s senses weren’t all that sharp, not as much as his own were. Maybe he could find a way to mask the scent somehow. He wondered if it would be suspicious for his room to suddenly start smelling like lavender.

“He—”

A sound interrupted Christopher’s sentence, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. His father’s heavy, thudding footsteps were making their way back down the hallway—towards his room again.

“Shit,” Christopher hissed. Panic gripped his mind, and in that panic, his hand shot forward and grabbed Joey—eliciting a tiny yelp of surprise from the human.

“Hey! Wh—”

Christopher desperately put a finger to his lips to silence Joey, his heart beating furiously against his ribcage. His father wouldn’t take it well to find a human in his room on a good day—and this definitely wasn’t one of his good days.

The footsteps got closer and closer. Christopher knew the door would be thrown open soon—he doubted he’d get as lucky as he’d gotten before. And surely, any closer and his father would be able to smell Joey…

He stared down at the human, his own wide eyes reflected in the human’s terrified face. He gave a nervous swallow, realizing what he might have to do.

It would hide his scent—

“Sorry,” he whispered quickly, hoping to convey a sense of apology before he shoved Joey into his mouth and closed his lips behind the human’s feet.

He’d expected it to feel much stranger, but something like a shock of adrenaline burst through his chest when he got that first taste on his tongue. He didn’t have time to revel in the feeling, though—he took a deep breath and, whether through sheer luck or panic, managed to swallow Joey entirely on the first try.

He thought he could hear the human’s shouting at first, but the sound disappeared as Joey slid further down his throat, past his collarbone, and into his stomach.

The clawing, incessant sensation of hunger melted away as the human filled the space.

His mind was a blur as he stood up quickly and whipped around, just as his bedroom door flew open and his father glared back at him.

“What’the fuck’re you doin’ in here,” his father slurred angrily. Christopher could smell the alcohol on his breath from where he stood in the middle of the room—it made him nauseous.

“I was getting to my homework,” he muttered quietly, averting his eyes from his father’s and instead staring just past him.

The human was moving frantically inside of him, kicking and punching at his insides—luckily not enough to hurt him, but it was still rather distracting. He did his best to keep his face even, and not betray the guilt and panic rising up within him.

I’m sorry, Joey. I should have told you it was safe.

His father narrowed his eyes. “Quit FUCKIN’ mumbling and look at me when you talk.”

Christopher swallowed the swell of anger that rose in his chest, Joey temporarily forgotten. He forced his eyes to meet his father’s, only just barely keeping the mess of emotions contained inside of him as he forced his lips into a thin line.

It’s not worth it to cause a fight right now. Just do what he says and get it over with.

“I’m going to work on my homework,” Christopher lied, making sure to enunciate each word clearly.

His father’s glance swept around the room—his eyes passing over the otherwise spotless interior and landing on the clothes Christopher had forgotten to pick up earlier today, after getting home from school and changing. He was worried his father had picked up on the last traces of Joey’s scent—Christopher could still just barely smell it himself—but luckily, he didn’t seem to notice. “Your room’s a fucking mess.”

Give me a fucking break. It’s ONE change of clothes.

Christopher could feel his own blood pressure rising, and he dug his nails into his palm. “I’ll pick it up.”

“You fuckin’ better. Whole damn house is a shitshow.”

His bedroom door slammed closed, and Christopher was once again left alone.

He’d gotten off relatively easy today.

The pressure in his chest eased up slightly as he took a few deep breaths, calming the anger and the panic that had overtaken him.

And then his focus drifted downwards.

He placed a hand over his stomach. Joey’s movements had slowed slightly, but the rapid beating of his own heart hadn’t.

There’s a PERSON inside of me.

It was such a weird sensation, to be able to feel so much movement in his stomach—he’d never noticed how sensitive his stomach was before. Was it just how it was with humans? He pressed at his own skin curiously, lifting his shirt up. There was no indication that there was anything out of the ordinary—Joey was far too small to make any sort of impression.

There was a sort of relief that began to flood his mind—a pleasant, almost hazy feeling that touched the corners of his thoughts, almost like he was floating on a cloud. And more than that—his empty stomach had calmed down, and he felt…almost full, as if he’d eaten an entire meal instead of a relatively tiny human. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten enough to feel this satiated.

But he’s fine. He’s fine. I’m not digesting him. He’s safe. It’s just a temporary thing.

The nagging voice, however, didn’t leave—what if he’d hurt Joey somehow? What if he couldn’t get him back out? What if he fucked up and—

His breaths began to come in short bursts again, panic rising in his chest. His eyes darted from the door to the window behind his bed.

He had to get out of the house.

“Hang on, Joey,” he muttered, placing a hand against his stomach—though he doubted Joey could hear him. He climbed up onto his bed and thrust the window open. It slid upwards with little resistance, thanks to Christopher’s careful maintenance of its hinges to keep it soundless. This wasn’t the first time he’d snuck out of the house, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The rain was still coming down, though it had lightened up slightly. He didn’t care—he could deal with a little rain. Slowly, he lowered himself down onto the ground and closed the window behind him before sprinting off into the woods behind the house, taking the path he knew like the back of his hand.

The rain drenched him, sinking into his clothes and dripping down his hair. He ran and ran, desperate to get to his place in the woods, to the only place he felt like he could actually breathe again. The wind whipped at his back, as if it was helping to carry him further and further away towards his sanctuary.

His house disappeared as he got further past the trees until he was surrounded by nothing but green and the smell of wet pine needles. The soft, rain-battered dirt beneath his feet caked on the soles of his tennis shoes, and he knew he’d have to be careful bringing them back inside later.

Finally, the clearing came into view—his place, his little fortress out in the middle of nowhere. The trees covered the whole place like a vibrant canopy, keeping some of the rain at bay. He headed towards the trunk of the largest tree, his favorite, and leaned against it, closing his eyes as he caught his breath again.

He slid down the trunk until he sat down against the earth, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he’d need to do laundry when he got home to clean all the mud off of his clothes but being far too overwhelmed to care.

How do I get him out?

He took a few slow, deep breaths. Panic probably wasn’t going to help. He tried to focus on that nice, pleasant feeling that teased the edge of his mind, doing its best to break past all the fear and anxiety that tried to tear into him.

Breathe, damnit.

His chest rose and fell slowly, and the weight in his middle rose and fell with it.

“Joey?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He didn’t know if the human could hear him, and he didn’t feel any sort of kick or punch in response. “I’m sorry. You’re fine, you’re not gonna get hurt. I’m…I’m gonna get you out.”

Silence. He may as well have been talking to the trees.

I can do this.

He had no idea what the first step even was. No one who ate humans talked about what it was like to bring them back out, but surely…surely it just sort of happened, right?

He tried to imagine the human moving back up his throat, contracting his stomach slightly as if he was trying to tighten his core muscles. Nothing happened—he could still feel Joey’s weight securely inside of him.

Fuck.

Did he have to make himself throw up or something? It wasn’t the most elegant solution, but what else could he do?

He carefully reached into his mouth, towards the back of his throat, and tried to make himself gag. He choked and spluttered, almost doubling over on himself, but nothing came back up his throat. It felt like his stomach held onto Joey with a greedy vengeance, unwilling to let him go.

FUCK.

He began to panic again, his mind speeding up to a crescendo of anxiety that thundered in his brain. The rain fell down his face and made him shiver, getting in his eyes and making his hair hang in wet, messy strands about his face.

The human moved around inside of him again, almost agitated now—as if Christopher’s failures were freaking him out too.

“I’m sorry Joey, I’m sorry…I’m trying. I’m trying. I’ve never done this before.”

He pressed his nails into his palms, hard, and winced at the sharp pain. He had to figure this out. He couldn’t stay out here all night. He couldn’t just leave Joey inside of him like this.

“I just…I couldn’t…couldn’t let him find you. He would’ve…” He would’ve eaten you. Just like I did. FUCK.

He could feel the corners of his eyes getting warmer, but the rain and the tears mixed together as they ran down his face. He only ever let himself cry out here, when he was alone—and he wasn’t alone right now, but it felt like it. All he could hear was the wind whistling through the trees and the rain that refused to let up. He couldn’t even see where the human rested beneath his skin—the only indication Joey was even there was the soft, small weight in his center that had stopped moving altogether.

He tried to make himself gag again, but once again, his efforts proved fruitless. He clutched his knees to his chest, out of breath, choking on air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he wheezed, his fingers clenching and unclenching around his legs.

I can’t. I can’t do anything. All I do is fuck things up.

His eyelids blearily fluttered open, his eyelashes dripping with rainwater and salt, and he squeezed them shut again.

He put a hand to his stomach again, in a likely futile attempt to reassure Joey. He pressed into it slightly, feeling the human’s form beneath his touch. It was still so surreal to think about. He might have enjoyed the feeling if he wasn’t terrified and overwhelmed.

Suddenly, though, he felt a strange sensation in the back of his throat as he pressed into his stomach. Curious, he slowly pushed even further, trying to press under where he felt Joey with his fingers, and his eyes shot open as he felt the human move upwards and into his throat.

Yes. YES.

It wasn’t anything like throwing up—the human slid up his throat just as easily as he’d slid down it. It was like his body was made for this. Despite all his struggles, this felt natural and easy. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, focusing only on the motion of his throat, placing a hand underneath the bulge that formed in his throat and helping it up towards his mouth.

He felt the human reach the back of his mouth as the flavor burst onto his tongue again—almost overwhelming in its potency, enough to make the breath catch in his throat.

He kept his mouth closed until the human emerged fully into it, and he felt tiny hands grasp desperately at his teeth as Joey pulled himself forward.

“L-let me out. Please,” Joey whimpered—he could hear the human’s voice clearly now.

For a moment—just a moment—Christopher considered swallowing Joey back down. He could feel the hunger rising back up in him, squeezing his stomach with sharp, clawed fingers. It begged him to keep the human inside of him a little longer, to feel that satisfying weight within him again.

No. NO. I’m not like HIM.

Christopher used his tongue to keep Joey pressed gently against the roof of his mouth as he tried to swallow all the excess saliva around him. Then, he parted his lips and reached in with a few fingers, pulling Joey out by his hands before letting the human fall soggily into his palms.

Joey looked much worse than he had earlier—covered in saliva, shivering and huddling in Christopher’s hands, and staring up at Christopher with wide, understandably terrified eyes.

They only stared at each other for a while, both unsure of what to say. Christopher tried to shelter Joey from the rain slightly by covering him with his other hand, but it only did so much.

“H-how the hell am I alive?” Joey squeaked, his lip trembling as he curled in on himself—as if he was trying to back away from Christopher as much as he could, despite the fact that he was sitting in Christopher’s hand, very far from the ground.

“Giants…eat humans,” Christopher mumbled, somewhat apologetic, “but not for food. Giant stomachs are safe for humans to be in. We can control our digestive systems.”

Joey blinked in disbelief. “What…what the hell?” His mouth fell open. “Why…if not for food, then—”

“Drugs,” Christopher muttered bitterly. “It’s…” his lips tightened, “kind of…a nice feeling. And, um…I guess humans taste good to giants.” His face scrunched up in apology. “But I didn’t—I didn’t eat you because of…that.” He sighed. “I didn’t want my dad to smell you. He would have…”

“Yeah, hey, I…get it,” Joey said, albeit somewhat warily. “I’m just…um…well, thank you, Christopher.”

Christopher nodded, unsure of what to do now. He couldn’t leave Joey out here in the rain, in the wild…how did humans even survive out in the wild like that?

He should take him home with him. He could probably hide the scent well enough…he only had to worry about his dad bursting in occasionally, but neither of his parents lingered around his room for long. He might be able to hide Joey…at least for a bit.

“Hey, uh…you good, kid?”

Christopher’s focus got pulled to Joey again, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I’m…I’m fine.”

“Uh…” Joey’s face took on something a little softer. Concern. “You just…didn’t sound too good. From uh. From in there.”

Christopher shook his head quickly, reflexively. “I’m fine, really.”

Joey nodded slowly, clearly disbelieving. He looked up at Christopher, and hesitantly placed a hand against Christopher’s palm. “You know…the way your dad treats you…it’s not right.” He moved his hand back and forth in a tiny, soothing motion. “You seem like a good kid.”

He felt his chest hitch. “T-thanks, um, Joey.” He grimaced as he stood up slowly, making sure to keep Joey well-protected in his palms to prevent the human from falling off. “I can…I can probably keep you in my room for a bit. I don’t think my parents will check for a while. And I might find something to keep your scent covered.”

Joey nodded tersely, a new wave of fear settling into his face as he glanced down at how far the ground was below him. “I…I appreciate it, kid.”

They walked in silence for a bit, Christopher holding the human close to his chest both to shield him from the rain and keep him from falling.

“Um…and, hey, kid…” Joey muttered, a twinge of nervousness in his voice. “If you gotta…if you gotta do that again, because of your dad or whatever…it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He looked up at Christopher, forcing half a smile through his features. “I trust you, alright?”

“...y-yeah. Okay.” Christopher tried not to think about the way Joey’s suggestion made his stomach growl hungrily.

That hunger persisted all the way back to the house—and only got worse the more the human’s scent filled his lungs.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

#itwom #in the world of monsters #vore writing #vore stories #gt vore #g/t vore #safe vore #unwilling vore #soft vore #clean vore #sfw vore #nonsexual vore

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eldritch-spouse · 6 months

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One time I yawned reeeeeally wide and my jaw did a sort of pop - Not a pop out of socket pop, but a crack your knuckles pop 🤔.

Since then I learned I could do this whenever, but the first time that happened was mildly terrifying. I thought if I opened my mouth, my jaw would like fall off. Soooooo I might have been too afraid to eat/drink for a full day.....

How would Vorti handle her Queen being frightened like this? Yk cause she’s a snake and a glutton and the whole vore thing... I think she would be more upset that her lil’ Nibble wasn’t eating

[Are you kidding? The first time I did that I thought it was funny as fuck. Freaked my parents out on purpose.]

Vorticia will have to harass her kids or her imps until someone finally explains what happened to have you so reluctant to eat.

Is there... Oh Lords don't tell her there's an infestation in the kitchens! She's so careful about that, it would destroy the Queen's mood for a week.

If you don't tell her yourself, she'll just keep guessing and drive herself nuts slowly but surely. As well as force you to eat. You can never not eat around Vorticia.

The Queen almost wants to roll her eyes at you. With a few coaxing words and a promise to only place soft foods on your plate for the day, she can hopefully coax you into some stress relief exercises and jaw massages. She believes this is happening because you're overly tense or anxious, but is quick to remind you something as simple as yawning too wide can make the jaw crack.

Not that she would personally know, she's only ever extended her jaw wide enough to hurt a handful of times...

The princes and princesses of Gluttony will be making playful jabs at you for a while. Maybe even cracking their own jaws and overreacting. A slam on the table from mom's hand will make them quiet down.

#Vorticia oc

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thebottomfromhell · 6 months

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I was wondering if you could do some headcanons for the upper moons realizing they’ve fallen for a human! My preference is for a male reader, but you can leave gn, no problem. What do you think is most likely to happen to the human? To die? Get eaten?! Forced to become a demon? All in peace?!

Ok, I will try to stuck as close to canon as I can in this one, since I can sense the direction this is meant to take. I will say now, this post is a reminder of what an Uppermoon is.

I always make reader to be the one making the first move, to be lovable for the Uppermons for them to actually fall in love in a stable state or the ideal state they will be able to handdle this freaks. I will also try to make it a bit funny in what is possible.

Uppermoons reaction of falling in love with Human Male Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers, Reader's death, Cannibalism, Yandere behavior, Mentioned torture, Non consented body modifications, Coerced body modification (becoming a demon), Implied non-con sexual content, Predatory animalistic behavior, Münchausen syndrome, Vore elements (it's not kinky, but some of theses guys do consume you), Implied child abuse, Every damn of this mf are their own warnings.

Gyutaro (ft Daki):

It takes Gyutaro a while for him to realize what exactly he feels, but the second he has the slightlest idea, he is afraid.

Not of being attracted to a man, of course, 'Is normal for men to lust after other men, ne. Just look at the actors and servants in the threater. Ne. Recently they hide it a lot more, for some reason." 💀

He doesn't like liking a human, of all things. It's scary, a weakness both demons and slayers alike might abuse.

That and the fact that he is very insecure, how could you love him back? He isn't even trying, what is you decide to abuse it too? That is the closest thing he knows he could get to being with you. He is not stupid, or clueless at least, he knows he can't say "no" to the ones he cares about. (Daki, himself and Daki. And now you.)

He starts a hot and could routine, going from avoiding you completely to yeatning and searching your company. He hates it, he starts to resent you for ir. Why must you have this amount of power over him.

He also protects you. Makes sure you are ok. He will most of the time be like a shadow, not getting close or risking you getting too far.

The dynamic becomes unhealthy, obssesive, Daki also starts to resent you for it. And it's visible, she insults you, destroys your things, and even tried to harm you several. Gyutaro is the one to protect you from her.

"I HATE YOU! YOU HAVE RUINED MY ONII-CHAN! HE DESERVES BETTER THAN A PATHETIC HUMAN!"

Unless you make a move on him or reject directly, you can expect this to last until one of you die. The thing is, while is hard not to notice what Gyutaro is doing, you can easily live and get away with this. You have the protection of Uppermoon 6 in exchange of your mere presence. He doesn't force more than that on you.

Gyokko:

Gyokko figures what he wants from you almost instantly, even before fully knowing how he feels exactly.

5 weeks, give or take. That's the most you can realistically get.

He doesn't care you are a man, of course not, if he wants you why would that matter? His taste, what he defines by beauty, is his own law. Men can be beautiful, and humans can be art.

Gyokko is going to be "nice" at first, he will show you his pots, bring you eyes, hands and skin from his victims, try to teach you the right path of art.

You are a man, men can learn art, erudites are artists. You can learn, as hopeless as it seems.

Anger him once- lose a foot in his mouthes. Then the same leg to the knee, then the thigh.... you only have so much to fail. And you will. Gyokko is meant to neither get bored or tired, because as a human you just can't understand the beauty of mutating a human body against it's will, painfully and messy into a new final product. Just a shadow of a the humanity left.

Now, once you have no legs, you have two choices. Die. Or beg. Beg for hin to let you understand, to make something sublime out you.... beg and he will.

You will be awake, he will carefully, almost lovingly, open your chest, take out your heart, maybe take a bite, and he will bleed into the wounds.

Become a demon for him, to him, all his.

Hantengu:

At the slightlest possibility of falling in love with you he cowers away.

Hantengu? Hantengu? Where did he go? What do you mean you haven't seen him in 3 months? >:v

He will come back, he will always come back and grab you. He will scratch you and sob, and sob and sob-

He has never been interested in men before, he had several wives in life, but not men. Men were always scary, strong and big, he was scary once too. He is scary now, but he still feels so scared. He touches your arms, shoulders, legs, all too masculine to be soft and comforting.

He will dissapear and come back to that routine, sometimes you wake up at night with him over you, crying.

Sometimes he is scared of you, sometimes he is scared for you. You can't talk or reason to him. You try, but you are a human. He doesn't have to listen to you. You are beloved, you are food, you are big, you are handsome, you are useless, you are mortal, you are nice, you are-

He can't deal with it. He genuinely tried. He tried and failed. He needs to get rid of you, you are too much. He is so sorry, he sobs, so sorry about this. Over you at night, you were sleeping the second he stabs you chest with a knife. Once, twice, thrice, and more, more, more. And he is so sorry-

S O R R Y

Sekido:

Run....

No, really, run. He realized after a while and he is NOT happy about them. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT?!"

You still have a chance to survive, but you must run. He must calm down and you need to get away from him before that. He will realize it's nobody's fault, but until then he will attack. Get Karaku, that is your best bet.

He doesn't care you are a man, but the fact a puny and frail human makes his hesrt beat faster, face heat up, and invade his mind to the point he is always coming for you.... he hates it, it irritates him. He is just so angry.

If you survived this part, probably with the help of the other clones, who would see it as a waste you dying right now (specially Karaku, he would do anything to annoy Sekido), he will talk to you.

"You will die. I want to spend more time with you, and that means you will die. I will get angry and kill you." He will, unless you turn into a demon, he has thought about it. That is your choice.

You might actually have a... stable relationship, if you accept. Sekido will hold you through all the process as he bleeds into a bite he himself did in your shoulder, taking a bite before forcing you to fade into something else.

He is not planning to let you go now that you are his.

Karaku:

He already knew he lusted you the first night, nothing new. You take that as a chance of survival, for YEARS [you are living a lot more as a human than anyone else].

He both takes you and let you take him, sometimes he is very insistent. "C'mon, don't bore me. Have fun with me or I might get rid of ya."

He also openly flirts with you, not csring for your gender, gets you gifts, kisses you, takes care of you. He makes sure to be worth the while. He is careful, you always feel pleasure with him, even when you don't want to.

"You are so handsome, so good for me~ yes, you are a very good boy. I want to be like this with you forever."

It takes him years, he realizes it's not normal lust, there is more. He wants more. He should have already getting bored of you, but he didn't. He never will.

For the first time he actually hurts you during sex, he bites your neck to the point you bleed, moaning against the taste, you get tired from the effort and blood loss. Everything gets numb, heavy, and you close your eyes as you are deep within him

You will open them without any memories, just a new, hungry and bloodthirsty body. And him offering himself to a new you.

Urogi:

Urogi doesn't want to hurt you, that is good.

Urogi wants to play with you and have your constant attention... that is not so good. Because he will hurt you.

He scratches, bites, pushes you around, forces you to run as he chases through the sky. How are you supposed to last in anything against him. But again, he doesn't want to hurt you, so he doesn't get angry of this.

He more often than not licks the blood and the wounds he caused, then cuddles into your lap. Smell your masculine scent from your scrotch when he uses your legs as a pillow and from your neck when he sits on them, he likes being over you.

But again, Urogi is meant to get bored of your limits while playing with you. You were actually already expecting it the night he decides to make a drastic move.

That night be hasically bit your wrist off, tasting your flesh, moaning as he enjoys the taste. You don't get to run away again, too tired and hurt, as he finishes the meal before forcing his own flesh in your mouth.

If you have trouble biting, the he will bite a part off and chew it for you before feeding you mouth to mouth, force both blood and tissue into your throat with his tongue.

You will become a demon you you can both play more.

Aizetsu:

"It's so sad, pitiful, that I'm attracted to you. A human of all things." ..... that was hurtful.

You made his heart beat slightly and gave him a knot on his throat. His honest thought was "WHY a human?" Something that he is meant to lose, no matter what. That is so sad.

He pities himself more than he pities you, but that doesn't stop him from keeping you around. He is gentle and soft, if it wasn't because of his nature it would almost be endearing. You talk, you walk together, sometimes he even holds you.

He doesn't mind that you are a man, but he can't take the thought of you leaving him. He makes sure to be pitiful around you, to manipulate you into letting him take advantage that you are weak in every sense. Soon, you are the one cuddling and comforting.

He kills you at the first problem to arise, Sekido using you to threat him into "becoming more useful". Better know than waiting to become even more attached, that will only make it sadder. He is so sad already, but he wants to evade being too miserable.

He will kiss your first, thank you for everything, let you have your last words and last wish. Then he will make it fast, painless.

He will kiss your corpse again before making himself a memorial for you. So sad.

Nakime:

DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT-

She is in love with a MAN? Like... a man?(PTSD of dead husband. She killed him.)

I'm sorry, you have at most an hour left to live, she is not dealing with so much. (Ok, let's be real, she might actually kill you, so just give her space.)

[Only one that actually reacts to your gender, like... why a man?]

She is as chill as she can be, so as long as you don't look at talk to her, look at her and evade her the best you can she will just let you be.

You being a man is an annoyance, even if that is the first though of you, it's easy to get over. You being a human... she is very loyal to Muzan (she doesn't count him as a man, he's god to demons, ofc), she would never put you over him.

She will actually talk the issue to you once she is ready, make the offer. Let you become a demon. She will transform you herself if you accept, if not then the will just throw you out her realm.

You will never hear a whisper of her again, she won't kill you herself, not waisting her time and effort in you. Her husband didn't deserve it, and she is seeing you like that too.

You should be able to live your own life as long as you don't ever cross any interdimentional door again. If you do...

Dead end.

Akaza:

Slow burn what slow burn? He falls fast and hard, too fast and hard for his own liking. So what if you are a man? He was never picky.

"BECOME A DEMON SO WE CAN BE TOGETHER FOR ETERNITY!!" Dude, chill! You both just met an hour ago! He is obssesed. Too obssesed.

Akaza will hurt you, will show you how weak you are, tease of how you could be more. He wants you, he wants you a lot, too much for his own good. It pains him.

He will bring you to the brink of death, while not really trying to kill you. Similar to a cat with a mouse. He will let you in the brink of death once and let you heal, sometimes even heal you himself (talk about Münchausen syndrome). He will do it again, and again, and again.

If you don't accept from all the torture, the now broken and useless limbs and bones, senses wrecked, constant pain in your body and a giant exhaustion after all the times he had his ways with you.

He even starts taking care of you, Akaza cleans the house since you can't even stand anymore, he cooks and learns your favorite recipes, he washes your clothes, takes you out to walks at night in his back, gets money (you don't know how and you are too scared to ask), he nurses you,

He won't turn you unless you consent to it, even if every day it looks less like a choice and more like the only way to get out. Sometime you wish he didn't make you have to choose.

If you never become a demon he will keep you like this until you die of... pain? Age? Exhaustion? Who knows? But you will die with the responsible of your state tending your wounds.

Douma:

Ok, listen, whatever you do, don't make any sudden movement, your situation is pretty delicate. There is still a chance of getting out alive NO, THAT'S A LIE, JUST PANIC AS MUCH AS YOU WANT, YOU'RE DEAD

Douma thinks he is feeling hunger around you as he craves and lust for you💀💀 he also thinks you're funny and dummy.. Like hell he can name whatever he is feeling but IT'S NOT SAFE

He wants you around, but he is always sure you will try to leave like Kotoha did. This has already happen once. Does he regrets his actions? Is he even able to regret besides sometimes wishing she was still around?

You are nothing like her. You are not even a "her", so he doesn't even understand why he compares you both so much. But he sees it. You will try to leave, no matter how nice, how kind, how generous, how serving he is with you. You will leave if he doesn't do something about it.

Transform you into a demon? So you could actually get the power you would need to run away? It would only take one Uppermoon meeting and you would be gone by the time he was back home. He is not dumb enough to think anyone would help him find you.

He eats you, taking his time with you. He will start hugging and kissing you, not caring if you want it or not. He will first bite you mouth so you can talk, can't ask for help if someone hears you scream (his followers would take his words over your, how would they take some non-intelligent screams over his voice then?)

Then he would rip your legs so you can't run, before eating him in front of you, praising the taste, kissing you to share it, commenting on hiw your skin and tissue feel in his mouth. After the legs, he waits for you to "calm down" (you are actually dying, losing blood) before finsihing without any rush.

He would keep talking to you even after your heart stopped beating. Be as gently as he can. Once he finishes, he will be satisfied. Not only his stomach is full, but you will be forever inside him. Lovely.

Kokushibou:

.... he barely realizes.

This is a married widow samurai, his priority is his sword to surpass his long dead brother

But he likes, he thinks you're handsome. Attractive. Not that he would ever try to put it into words. (Someone tell this guy that no, not EVERY man is attracted to other men but marries a woman they don't even like because of obligation. That some people are ACTUALLY attracted to their opposite gender and spouse.)

[His wife though he was gay once he heard Michikatsu left her and their children to follow another man. Like bitch, did he even explain they were brothers?]

But again, beside just looking at you, does he even care? Does he even have anything in his heart besides this desire, this craving, this greed for power? To be more powerful than his own little brother? To take the place he was promised as the warrior, the gentleman of the gentry, that he was so afraid Yoriichi would take away?

It's never about you, even when he is with you. He will stay with you in silence, sometimes watch you from the distance, but it's never about you.

It's about himself. It's always about himself. You are only a pleasure that, like those days he visited his little brother, so lonely and weird, a freak that barely reacted to anything in his cage, (are those his thoughts or just the resentment inside him? Is it even real or Muzan somehow made it worse?) will fade away, and he will hate those moments and you.

You are a human, you are meant to die. He likes you, so he will keep you around, but nothing else. Kokushibou loves you know, and he will hate you in 100 years more, once you are gone. Simple as that.

He will cry and hate you the second your corpse touches the ground. Like Yoriichi did.

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #kny x reader #karaku #urogi #gyutaro #sekido #aizetsu #hantengu #gyokko #nakime #douma #akaza #kokushibou #this is royally fucked up #i had fun making this #top reader

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lorwolf-salt · 6 months

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Okay, Coop7011 here, SaltyLoria staff, ignore my first post. Weird vore person here (she for those who don't know), not sure if I should be doing this but I figured it's better that people hear from me instead of talking about me and making things up, plus whatever the frick happened in that thread. Keep in mind all of this (besides the thread issue yesterday) happened months ago. And it started in that thread yesterday because I merely said something along the lines of 'I am not in the official Lorwolf Discord for private reasons, and never will be' and random curseword guy got butthurt about that for some reason, even though it's against the rules to discuss moderator actions. I don't know who he is, but I can only assume it was just a guy who really hates vore. And I suspect a lot of people here also hate vore, and that's fine. I just hope some of you can see past that hate and see the truth of what really happened.

Yes, I was banned from the discord, but not because I 'wanted to show little kids NSFW'. Keep in mind that while I was ON the server, my username was not Wholesome Vore Writer, it was Coop7011, the same as it was on the website. You would only see Wholesome Vore Writer if you DMed me. At the time, I did not have Nitro, so when the staff asked me to remove the link to my Ao3 (that nobody has to click, nobody is forced to read, and has warnings and tags everywhere about the content of the stories) then I'd be changing it for every single discord server I was in. They were also forcing me to change my base username, and not just my nickname on the discord server (which was Coop7011 anyway). I felt this was unreasonable, but changed it for a time so I could conclude some trade deals on the discord server. Then, after some time, I admit that I got salty about the staff of one discord server (LW) forcing me to change so much on an account that I use for so many other things. So I changed it back. Things were fine for awhile (because that's how unnoticeable it is, unless someone snoops through my profile or DMs me) but then eventually I was banned without word. I don't agree with this choice, but I've long since accepted it as a fact that I didn't heed to their requests/went back on it and thus they had their right to get rid of me. I didn't care that much as long as I was able to play on Lorwolf itself. Keep in mind that no word of my writing is on the server or the website, all of this is about my base Discord username (hidden since I set my nickname on server to be my Lorwolf username) and a link to my stories on my discord profile. Personally, I also don't agree with calling my work NSFW, as they are not sexual and I don't write them with sexual intent. They are emotional comfort stories to cope with trauma, where no one is harmed (yes vore is people being swallowed, but they're safe in my work). I won't get into too much detail about this, because frankly, I don't think it should matter what I write about off-website. It's not using Lorwolf characters and it's not being posted directly on Lorwolf anything. This is the most I've ever talked about it in a semi public space about this pet sim game. So there you go, that's what happened. And I am deeply sorry to VNX for what happened to the thread, I purposely didn't take part in discussing back and forth because I knew it would go nowhere and would just result in countless removed posts, but I guess someone else did argue about it.

#lw forums #long post #lw discord

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sillyromance · 2 months

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Hay I'm not having the best day

May I request some soft comfort vore with transformers prime breakdown please I can understand if not. :)

Good day, dear anonymous!

Of course! Here you go - and I hope it'll be better for you soon!

P.S: I wanted to finish this story today since you were feeling sad... So I didn't really had the time to check it properly. I really hope there are no bad mistakes - and that you'll forgive me if there are... Good luck and take care!

The way to sort out problems.

- ... And then I threw him over the wall.

- Primus!.. I almost regret I haven't seen all o' that. You should definitely take me with you next time.

Breakdown and Knockout were going down the corridor, chatting. That time the medic had to stay on board to complete a specific task, so his big blue friend went on a mission alone and spent outside all day. Catching their loud laughter shaking the ship, you smiled, but very soon your eyebrows frowned again, your head titling down. The carmin mech wasn't the only one who missed the bulky decepticon.

That day wasn't the greatest. Everything seemed sucks, and without your friend it was even worse since there was no one who could cheer you up with their clumsy jokes. Surprisingly, you had grown fond of Breakdown quite fast. The first time you saw him you thought you wouldn't get out alive, and now... You learnt he was the best pal anyone could ask for: caring, fun, ready to listen to you any moment. And unlike other decepticons, he was very tolerant to humans - as well as his mate Knockout. Those two protected you and made sure you had everything you needed. The medic was a bit annoying at times, especially while playing flirty, but it was bearable, moreover that your favourite decepticon was around too.

As you expected, soon your paths crossed. Breakdown waved his huge manipulator in a greeting gesture.

- Hello, Y/N. How is it going?

- Fine... - You smirked, rolling your eyes. - As always.

- Well, I wouldn't say that. - Knockout's faceplate grimaced. - At least not after watching you wonder around the decks like a ghost since the noon. Perhaps, you will throw some light on their behaviour, Breakdown. I have tried, but pharmacy seems to be helpless here!

- Shut up... - You scoffed, turning away. A one more thing that you hated about him was his disgusting habit to stick his nose in others ' businesses.

- Well, then I gotta go, Knockout, sorry. See you in the lab tomorrow!

- Sure thing, Breaky!

You trailed the skinny mech dancing away and vanishing behind the nearest wall. Bastard!

- So, what did happen?

The blue cybotronian's yellow optics were staring at you with confusion and concern; he bowed, offering you his hand. It didn't take long before you climbed on it.

- That's... Uh.. Just a bad day, you know.

- I see.

- You must be worn out. I think you should get a proper rest, not to...

- I'm not going to sleep or anything until my friend is OK. Got it? - His voice was soft and soothing, though it was possible to feel some serious notes rumbling deep inside. - Let's, head to our room. I think you might use some... Special treatment, don't you?

It would be hard not to blush.

- Well, I guess so...

Without further discussion, he put you on his shoulder and started going.

The lights went deem due to the late our. While still on the move, Breakdown told you about his adventures from the beginning, definitely trying to distract you from the bad thoughts occupying your mind. It was... Nice. Finally, your big teddy bear was here with you. His low, husky baritone appeared to be best treatment for your aching nerves to settle.

- Home, sweet home...

At privacy, at last.

Breakdown made his way straight to the berth. It was a pity to leave your cozy nest beside his neck, but a thought about the place even better where you would soon find yourself convinced you to keep your complaints unsaid. Sitting on his palm, between his thick fingers, you suddenly realised how small you actually were - it wasn't like you didn't know it before, but such situations still hit you hard. And so the more heartwarming it was for you to know that, being so gigantic, he didn't ever tried to cause you pain. And something was telling you he never would.

- Ready, Y/N?

- Yeah... - You got up and laid a quick smooch of gratitude at his red cheek. - Thank you, Breakdown.

- Don't mention it. - He smiled softly. - You would do the same being on my place.

After that his mouth opened before you, awaiting. Sighing, you ducked right into the warm, pulsing grey cavern. Now you could truly relax.

The glossa bent down to make it easier for you to get comfy inside the maw. Tingles of pleasure were wandering around your back as it was gifting you with careful, gentle licks. Dump air weighted your body with lazy drowsiness while sticky transparent saliva soaking in your clothes made you nice and slick. As it often happens before sleep, your brain unexpectedly came up with an idea that if your relatives could see you now, they would all instantly fell unconscious. And it was the first thought which finally made you giggle.

The muscles came to life, pushing you further, to the dark entrance of the pharynx. You laid limp as they affectionately hugged you, tugging you forward... Breakdown swallowed. What a nice feeling - to be dragged into a warm blanket of your friend's throat! His muscles could turn your bones into dust in no time. His dents could chop you into bloody mess back at the watering chamber above, but you was cared for, adored... loved. Every gentle contraction of the flexible metal muscles signalled about it. You was sliding down, down, down... Thumping sparkbeat was booming calmly somewhere nearby, white noise of engines was ringing in your ears...

You had been already at pure bliss as you arrived inside your friend's spacious fueltank.

- I hope the ride was good. - The mech's words reached you, distant, yet close like echo. - I'm going to recharge too. Don't hesitate to wake me if you want out.

- I think, it won't happen any time soon, big guy... - You mumbled, curling up in a ball and cuddling with glowing walls surrounding you. It was already extremely hard to not doze off, especially with those lulling, happy gurgles and groans burbling around. - Sleep tight.

- You too, Y/N...

It was the last thing you heard before falling into the peaceful world of dreams...

#soft vore #extreme cuddling #safe vore #transformers vore #willing prey #willing pred #transvoremers #tfp vore #vore breakdown #comfort vore

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