#pred! rich | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eelhound · 6 months

Text

"We live in a time of crisis. Consider three interwoven ones.

First, climate change. Every year brings more forest fires and less breathable air, the result of an economic system predicated on burning fossil fuels and working long hours to fuel energy-intensive consumption.

Second, overwhelmed families. Even though people in the Global North live in the richest societies the world has ever known, the majority still find themselves overworked and overwhelmed. Practically every family, especially with young kids, is stressed and strained, struggling to balance the unbalanceable demands of care with no support and work with no flexibility.

Third, millions of poor and working-class people are profoundly unfree in that they have no time for anything but the constant scramble to stay ahead of the bills. In Europe, the average woman in a couple with children works a massive seventy-one hours per week when you include her unpaid care labor. In New York, a single mother on minimum wage would need to labor for an astounding (and impossible) 117 hours every week to meet her basic needs. We live in an epidemic of time poverty, where compulsory overwork defers dreams and crushes aspirations under the relentlessness of Sisyphean toil.

Imagine, for a moment, a different kind of society where the standard job was part-time, but also a good job, offering decent pay and benefits as well as flexibility and career advancement. Public provision of essential services would provide a background of economic security: from health care to childcare, pensions to transit (and, ideally, a basic income as well). With their basic needs met, individuals wouldn’t have to rely on their jobs nearly as much to get by — and working substantially less than forty hours would be something to be desired rather than feared.

The Research on Part-Time Work

Recent scholarly evidence shows that slashing work hours is key to confronting climate change. For example, Jonas Nässén and Jörgen Larsson find that “a decrease in working time by 1% may reduce energy use and greenhouse gas emissions by about 0.7% and 0.8%, respectively.” David Rosnick and Mark Weisbrot find that if the United States were to slash its working hours to Western European levels, energy consumption would drop by 20 percent. The most rigorous study to date is probably that of Jared Fitzgerald and colleagues, who performed a longitudinal study on fifty-two countries. They confirmed the results of other studies that more working time leads to more energy consumption, and that this relationship is intensifying over time for both rich and poor countries.

We know that under regular conditions, capitalist economies grow and grow, but so far only by producing more and more emissions. Global emissions have only fallen four times over the last sixty years — 1981, 1992, 2009, and 2020 — precisely when the world was in the throes of economic recession. This is the cold reality of neoliberal capitalism: it forces us to choose between environmental destruction or the social misery of mass unemployment.

Good part-time work offers us a structural escape hatch — a new model to immediately reduce emissions without putting people out of work.

Of course, part-time work isn’t enough by itself. A pro-worker climate agenda must also include national and global agreements on carbon caps, a Green New Deal that unleashes massive state investment fueling decarbonization (for instance, shifting toward clean energy and building new public transit infrastructure), and so on. But good part-time work is a necessary, if insufficient condition, for preventing ecological disaster.

In terms of work-life balance, the evidence is even stronger. The academic literature finds again and again that bringing down work hours alleviates family stress and strain. To cite one of many examples, Rosemary Crompton and Clare Lyonette report in a 2006 paper that in every one of the five countries they studied, “working hours were the most significant predictor of work-life conflict.”

We also know that free time is foundational for individual freedom. To live the life one wants, free time is essential to devise and accomplish any of one’s life goals. One cannot be deeply engaged with family, friends, art, activism, sport, music, education, or any of the variegated projects that animate people’s aspirations if one is always on the clock.

The US vs. Western Europe

For hundreds of years, a vibrant strand of socialism has aspired to build a world with substantial freedom from toil — a world where machines do much of the work so humans don’t have to, freeing us to pursue our aims, develop our capabilities, and flourish in whatever directions we see fit. This is a world where artificial intelligence and robots actually make human life better and easier, rather than ushering in unemployment, fear, and inequality.

But is good part-time work really possible?

For those of us living in North America, part-time employment usually means poorly paid and precarious, with few benefits and even less autonomy. However, there’s nothing inevitable about this. Western European examples show that it’s completely possible to transform crappy part-time jobs into good, secure jobs.

In Denmark, for example, part-time work is usually good work. Whereas the hourly wage gap between full-time and part-time women is more than 20 percent in Italy, Spain, and the United Kingdom, in Denmark, it is about zero. Danish part-timers also enjoy robust benefits and pensions; a person who works part-time at 75 percent for ten years then full-time for the rest of their career, will end up with a pension worth 98 percent as much as someone who worked full-time their whole career.

A single mother working at the lowest wage (there is no official minimum wage in Denmark, since wages are set through collective bargaining) for thirty hours per week earns €27,600, while the living wage is roughly €15,000. Danish part-timers appear to be very happy with their situation. The percentage of part-time women who say they are “dissatisfied” with their job is only 4 percent, and the percentage of part-time workers who are dissatisfied with their life as a whole is just 0.4 percent.

The Netherlands is another illuminating example. It is the world’s first so-called “part-time economy,” with the highest proportion of part-time jobs in the world. Amazingly, close to 50 percent of the entire labor force works part-time (compared to only 18 percent in the EU27).

Since implementing the Equal Treatment (Working Hours) Act in 1996, it has been illegal for Dutch employers to discriminate between full- and part-time workers in the provision of pay, benefits, holidays, and employment opportunities. Part-time jobs are mostly open-ended contracts, not a precarious form of nonstandard employment — part-timers are not significantly more likely to work unsocial hours like evenings, nights, or weekends — and the country boasts the highest proportion of firms in Europe with part-time positions at high levels of qualification (47 percent). The result is that the gap between hourly part-time and full-time wages is only about 5 percent, with very little part-time work being involuntary (only 5 percent of female and 10 percent of male part-timers would prefer to be full-time).

Crucially, the cluster of policies boosting part-time work exists against a background of relatively robust economic security. The country’s National Old Age Pension guarantees every citizen a flat-rate pension by sixty-five, regardless of previous employment or earnings. A living wage for a single mother in the Netherlands is today about €15,000, whereas her income from working thirty hours per week on minimum wage is roughly €19,000. A family with two adults, both working thirty-hour weeks, earns a median income of roughly €60,000 — easily surpassing the living wage floor for the whole family (two adults, two kids) of €43,000. Part-time work, in other words, is perfectly feasible for everyone.

Things could hardly be more different in the United States.

In California, a living wage for a four-person family is roughly $110,000. If both adults worked part-time (thirty hours per week) the family would take in a median income of just $70,000. If part-time work is unattractive for the bottom half of the population, the situation is far worse for the poorest. A single mother in Los Angeles working thirty hours per week at a minimum wage job will bring in only $24,180 — pitifully short of a living wage, which for such a family is more than three-times greater, at over $80,000.

The reason the living wage in the United States is so much higher than in Europe is because social democratic welfare states provide their citizens with free or subsidized health care, childcare, transport, housing, etc. The amount of private money that anyone needs to acquire their basic needs (the “living wage”) is therefore much less. A good life based on part-time work is completely feasible in many parts of Europe.

Germany is another example. Although the country has many fewer part-time jobs than the Netherlands, they have done an excellent job of shrinking the number of hours worked in standard full-time jobs. Germany currently has the shortest working hours in the world — an average of 1,341 a year — which is, remarkably, 26 percent, or the equivalent of eleven full working weeks, shorter than in the United States. In Berlin, a living wage today is about €15,000 — within reach of anyone on a part-time income, since even a minimum-wage part-time worker makes €18,720.

A Transformative Demand

The bottom line is that constructing an economic system where part-time jobs are both good and widely available is possible. Doing so requires the standard social democratic tools of unions, high taxes, and progressive governments willing to regulate the market on behalf of workers. None of this is easy to achieve, particularly in countries with as weak a labor movement and as powerful a business class as the United States. But political will, not technical feasibility, is what is standing in the way of a good life for the majority.

In these times of crisis, it is easy to feel dispirited and hopeless. And when hope departs, cynicism grows. The vision of a freer society built around good part-time work is one antidote to such cynicism. It is a bold, feasible demand — at once radical and realistic in the medium term. The elements that are required already exist in various places around the world.

The result would not be a utopia. It would not solve all our problems. But it could transform our lives."

- Tom Malleson, from "We Should All Be Working Part Time for Full-Time Pay." Jacobin, 22 November 2023.

#tom malleson #quote #quotations #work life balance #leisure #economics #democratic socialism #overwork #adulting #climate change #climate crisis #capitalism #jobs #neoliberalism

45 notes · View notes

imma-hallyucination · 4 months

Text

Oneshot Masterlist.

forbidden fruit.

cousin!reader (f) x non-idol!jungkook

Forbidden relationship. Cousin incest. 7.8k.

Take It.

female reader x non-idol!seulgi (feat. lackey!bang chan x reader)

Rape/noncon. Gangbang. 2.5k.

This Is Love.

psycho! rich girl!reader x non-idol!jungkook

Pred/prey dynamics. Rape/noncon. (X) Words.

little bodies.

noona!reader x baby brother!jisung

Incest. Underage. Rape/noncon. (X) Words.

#oneshot masterlist #oneshot masterpost

26 notes · View notes

skin-of-my-teeth · 2 months

Text

Fit for a King

Tags: Feedism, Pred/Prey, slave/owner, Dumbification, implied vore, but not explicit, fattening prey to eat, Royalty AU, Royal King/Pred Jungkook, Slave prey/ chubby Jimin, hybrids: Bunny Jimin, Wolf Jungkook

Prey have become rare and therefore are prized possessions. They've all been hunted and sold into slavery until, eventually, they end up safe in a predator’s belly. It's their sole purpose and what they're meant for, at least that's the propaganda that predators feed them.

Only the royals rolling in wealth can afford such feasts. Jungkook is the richest predator, a massively over-fed wolf, because he gets anything and everything that he wants. It's a perk of being King.

Jimin is so sweet and dumb and plump. A happy little slave to the King on high. He's so lucky to be owned by such a wealthy predator.

Jungkook is overly indulgent to his dumb bunny. So doting. Constantly pampering Jimin. Despite his royal status, Jungkook always keeps Jimin in his grasp so no one can steal what is rightfully his. Jungkook isn't a fool to the hungry stares directed at his tubby prey. He only made that mistake once, when he was a prince, haughty and proud. He had paraded his prey at the time with abandon. All it took was for one hungry predator and Jungkook never made the same mistake again. Now, his meal is safely collared and leashed, content to live right on his lap as Jungkook dotes on him and feels the soft chub slowly thicken in his hands.

It's such a honor to be the high-King's meal. Jimin is treated like a princess himself and is kept blissfully unaware, only spoiled by everyone in the court. All of the rich predators compliment their King on Jimin's size as he grows, like the sweet, fattened pet that he is.

Jimin is fed cake and sweets at parties, kept happy and dumb. Jungkook shows off to his ostentatious court of predators by stuffing the bunny until he's heavy and round, lazy and forced to rest. After each party that Jungkook hosts just to fatten his prey in front of everyone, he's rewarded with the currency of lust-filled admiration for his treat. His plump dessert. Lush and luxerious, destined to feed the King's gut. The predators drool as their King's prized prey slowly rounds and fattens, getting more dumb and delicious by the day.

Jungkook smirks as predators offer him gold and jewels for his favor, using the prey to further his own wealth. He purrs at the many gifts rained down upon him, with the fattened bunny kept in his claws. Jimin is destined to only feed the King, and there's nothing that the greedy lords and ladies can do about it, unless they want to experience the high-King's anger. Just like Jungkook, they've learned their lesson. All it took was that one time for them to all understand that staying in the King's favor meant security. They're all slaves to him, in a way. Societal slaves to the rich, cunning tyrant.

It's such a boast of status, a display of wealth to fatten a prey so heavily, only to eat them and devour all of their riches. Jungkook keeps Jimin much longer because of it. It's in fashion to test the limits of how big a prey can be grown. Stretch marks and ripped skin are a thing of beauty.

Jungkook's dumb slave can barely move by the time he's buttered and sprinkled with sugar, just how the King likes. The immobile prey permanently lounges against the large King's belly and listens to the greedy gurgles that he don't know to associate with doomed hunger.

Jimin doesn't have anything to worry about. His predator takes such good care of him! He's such a lucky bun. Spoiled and clearly adored by everyone. The richest, fattest jewel in the whole kingdom, Jungkook says. Perfect in every way. His favorite slave. His prized possession...

Until Jungkook decides that his prey is better-off settled deep inside of his hungry gut, of course.

#bts feederism #bts fic #🐞#gluttony

17 notes · View notes

squirmifyoulike · 3 months

Text

A pred that's a king.

Usually, he makes a great effort to appear sophisticated, and, all things considered, he's generally a good king. He's fair to the common folk of the kingdom, and, realizing this, most people love the king. Generally, he is also genuinely kind, sweet, and gentle; he visits libraries, hospitals, schools, etc. to talk to the children and sickly and help them out. Of course, being so gentle, it's easy for some people to get the wrong idea - that he's weak. His true talent hardly ever shows...

That is, unless someone makes him mad.

Now, he would never eat common folk. No, no. He has standards for himself as a king, and most people don't deserve to end up in his stomach. How would that be fair? He wields almost all of the political power in the kingdom... But there is also a council that helps the king, and there are many rich families of nobility around. So, when he eats, you can be certain it's a political rival, noble, or pretty much anyone with power.

And it's all worth nothing once they end up in the pred's belly.

Being in a position of power in the kingdom is dangerous. As far as the king is concerned, you are almost ALWAYS on thin ice. If he finds out a noble is trying to bribe the council? They're done. If he finds out a member of the council is trying to introduce a shady bill to jack up prices? Gone. Done.

And their punishment is almost always something public, too. While there are no formal ceremonies that show a king gulping down an advisor/noble, he does freely lounge on his throne while his meal is... Punished. Each loud gurgle and groan echoes throughout the extravagant throne room, and the muffled cries and protests of the king's meal can be heard. Of course, at this point, any excuse that the king's meal can spit out is worth nothing. They're already deep in the pit of the pred's gut, facing their punishment for whatever act the king decided he didn't like. And it's a long, slow process, too - which means that everyone gets to watch the progression of the king's meal.

In the first few hours, it's always rigorous, intense writhing and squirming, with handprints grinding along the king's stomach as the prey frantically tries to push out. Once a few hours have passed, though, the prey's exhausted themselves, and digestion is REALLY starting to ramp up. The king's stomach is still shifting and squirming, but now, the movements are much weaker and pathetic, with hardly a bulge poking out of the king's stomach. The time between the stomach shifting gradually grows longer and longer... Until finally, there's one last 'thump' in there... And then, it doesn't happen again. At this point, the king finally runs a hand over his engorged, round belly and lets out a satisfied sigh. His punishment has succeeded; now, he gets to enjoy the rest of digestion in peace and quiet.

#tw vore #v.ore #vore tw #fatal vore #soft vore #digestion #tw fatal vore #implied digestion #unwilling prey #male pred #ambiguous prey

110 notes · View notes

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

56 notes · View notes

tinystarwatch · 7 months

Text

It's that time of year again.

Freezing cold, only getting worse. I'm thinking about ways for prey to warm up. But specifically being held in a pred's mouth while they drink something warm.

Just, most all of the night goes on in the dark enclosed press between their tongue and pallet. Carefully kept centered, accommodated for when then pred speaks.

Then ever so often, the maw around the prey opens, lips parted a little and a small waft of the cool air outside slips in. Not subjected to that for very long thankfully, as it's quickly followed by a hot wash of fireball and cider. The prey doesed and suddenly heated significantly as the liquid flows around them. Feeling the gentle roll of the tongue beneath accepting it, the throat at their feet pulling a shallow gulp. Suction that drags them back, but each time never enough to go down (or not yet).

Once it's done, the prey is left to their dark enclosure once again until the next sip. Only now warmer and soaked in the rich spice and apple smell.

#starwatch #starwatchvorethoughts #was that the tag?#soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #tiny prey #foodplay #maybe???#drinkplay??#extreme cuddling #how many times have I made this exact post #the prey brain just doesn't shut off after the temps dip

24 notes · View notes

citrus-kiddo · 13 days

Text

OKAY BUG.SNAX V.ORE HCS!!! 🪲

Kinda long... 😙 (EDIT: I FORGOR TO ADD WIGGLE)

Fil.bo: Switch

I feel like could easily swallow someone but also be the perfect target for swallowing. He'd be an absolute sweetheart to his prey, always making sure his prey is cozy and stuff. And if he's the prey, he gets super flustered over the mildest teasing.

Beffi.ca: Observer

I doubt she'd be interested in participating but she'd def watch the others do that stuff and gossips about it.

Gram.ble: Prey (only pred towards bugsnaks)

I bet he'd taste like strawberries. Anyways, I feel he's only been eaten by Wiggle, cuz that's his beloved girlfriend, and Wambus, and that was because a dumb agreement the two were having.

Wam.bus: Pred

I feel like he's mostly bark with very little bite, like, as soon as he swallows someone (especially Triff.any), he tones down the gruff attitude and usually become calm tho a little smug. Though he does dabble in fearplay (if the prey is okay with it).

Triff.any: Prey

I think Triff.any rarely actually participates but she'd only allow herself to be nommed Wambus cuz that's her husband and she trusts him. :]

Crom.do: Observer

Idk man he'd just be too busy reaching for riches to do any of that tomfoolery.

Floof.ty: Observer (Occasionally pred)

I think they'd be interested in watching the other grumpuses eat each other for research purposes. They usually go to Chand.lo since they know he'd be the least bothered by them watching him while he's hosting a prey.

Chand.lo: Switch (mainly pred)

I think he'd mainly be the pred in his relationship with Sno.rpy cuz Sno.rpy finds his stomach to be a comfortable little safe space which makes Chand.lo so happy. Though when he is prey, he doesn't struggle/move too much as to not upset Sno.rpy's tummy.

Sno.rpy: Switch (mainly prey)

I think he just enjoys being snug in Chand.lo's belly, it makes him feel safe. He only eats Chand.lo sometimes and claims it to be to keep himself full while he invents so he doesn't, secretly though he does it to keep Chand.lo close to him.

She.lda: Observer

I think she'd be an observer cuz she too old for this man and it just generally isn't her think but she doesn't mind others around her doing it.

Buddy/The.Journalist: Any/All

The.Journalist is kinda just the Y/N of Bug.Snax so they can be whatever!

W.iggle: Pred

She'd only nom Gram.ble usually to show her affection or to comfort him. Also, I bet she'd get defensive if anyone else even jokes abt nomming Gram.ble too.

Anywho, that's it! I take requests/ask so if you're interested/have questions or want to make a request to get turned into a doodle, send me an ask! 🍊(pretty please yall I am suffering for some art block)

#bug.snax #vore related #safe vore #extreme cuddling #soft vore #Fil.bo #Beffi.ca #Gram.ble #Wam.bus #Triff.any #Crom.do #Floof.ty #Chand.lo #Sno.rpy #She.lda #The.Journalist/Buddy

14 notes · View notes

asinfullangel · 7 months

Text

11 regret

“How was I supposed to know they were the vip.”

Working as a person’s personal assistance can be tiring on most days. Running around, doing the side tasks and in most cases speaking for your employer on their behalf because they are too lazy to do it themself. The pay is good and getting to be in the big city is a nice addon, but there are some things that I can’t stand doing. I don’t really need to mention this though it will make things easier to understand. I am a pred and being around such uptight people with so much cash just makes me want to eat their ass then keep the cash.

There was one time that I put up a week working for a shortie with a thick wallet, almost as thick as my thigh, and I was so ready to quit. Self centered, picky while unwilling to pay for stuff he already tried out and had the nerve to call me his “muscle pump brute” whenever he wanted to intimidate someone. When I finally decided to quit working with him he was so bold to ask me to hand back my paycheck. His ass was mine and it tasted as good as the rest of his wimpy body. What I came to regret kinda was when my agency asked me what happened to my previous employer. I know the police would be looking into his disappearance and with me being the last person that talked to him alone I was always the first suspect to get questioned heavily. I think that lasted a few weeks before those copiers left me alone after running out of leads (god, I was almost starving myself just waiting for them out).

The next guy I was assigned to work for was a bit nicer while having some annoying quirks that eventually got to me. Was thinking about what his needs most of the time when he thought he was “helping” others, didn’t think he needed a second more once he was done at an event and was kind of a shut in so… I got pretty tired from doing so much fetching since “I’m paying for your services so could you pretty please go buy me-” junk that was all over the city and he sure wasn’t dealing with all of the traffic. He tasted fatty for being a skinny pig, but taking a few hundred bucks from his private safe was a nice tip for my services. I think the same agent was looking into me when I once again turned out to be the last person that last saw him, watching me like a hawk. 2 delivery boys went down into the tank during that month and I’m sure either one of the two were secretly an agent (felt like I had a badge trying to pass through my gut).

I know these rich guys, agents and anyone else that I had as a meal will respawn back sooner or later, but I think my most recent rich prick I’m thinking of going after his tasty ass for seconds.

I mean I sure wouldn’t want to go revisit a previously eaten prey even if they may fear a foggy memory of my stomach, haha. Though these men left me wanting another taste eventually and I shouldn’t deny myself another taste when I crave more. He was half and half in my opinion, can give and don’t mine receiving a few complaints. He was entertaining enough of an employer and knew when to give me a break from doing daily trash… I kinda regret not grabbing a bit to eat before showing up to work that day. I’ll keep it brief just because I’m not really the kind to be sappy. A few buds of mine went out drinking the night before, I got pretty hammered and may have forgotten to grab a prey on the way home. I’m used to sleeping on a fun stomach and passively burning away what’s left as my breakfast till lunch. I had my boss for breakfast… Don’t blame me for eating him! I blame him for asking me to watch over him as he goes for a swim. Alone with him in his private sweep just tempted my hunger before I saw him wearing a speedo. A secretly fit hunk under all those suits he had me pick up personality, how did I not know this before (though it was best that I didn’t otherwise I wouldn’t have so many tips from him personally). He enjoyed a swim in his pool before I sent him into my stomach to swim in stomach acid.

There, you have the one person that I actually regretted eating. I could have gone back to working for him and made up some sort of story about what happened that day, but things wouldn’t have felt the same knowing what he looked like underneath his clothing along with his taste. So I made up a little lie once he respawned, traded my position with another work buddy of mine and now continuing on with my job… I come after him a few times a month and eat him again after my bud lends me his roomkey. Go ahead and question why go through the trouble of going after an old prey, I can sure as hell come after ya and let my stomach continue doing the talking if you keep this up.

#male vore #male vore prompts #vore prompts #voretober #by me

23 notes · View notes

sillyromance · 5 months

Text

Good day everyone!

As I said I don't know everything about Star Wars. But I did some research about my favourite character - and I just had to write about it. So, this story is absolutely imaginary - and it is quite different from the original movies.

However, I hope you enjoy!

WARNING: long writing, OOC, angst, father/son conflict, hurt/comfort; Pred!Darth Vader/Prey!Reader. Also, some of the words(youth and maid) have their old meaning: youth - young man, maid - young woman.

Light in the dark

Luke was sitting on the specular floor of an empty hall - in front of a large ship's window; stars sparkling like specks of diamond dust were thrown all around the black fabric of cosmic sky. Pinkish and blue smoke of nebulas sent pastel-colour flashes over its dark deepness, staying frozen and cold, as if they were just somewhat alien flowers on photographs from a biology book. Watching their foggy petals peacefully blooming behind the thick glass young Jedi felt strange pain eating his insides, his heart annoyingly numbing. The boy's eyes was searchingly scanning the universe as if there was something very important lost among white dots of foreign planet systems.

Suddenly, discernment of his senses escalated. The boy mentally felt someone's presence long before his ears signaled about heavy mechanical footsteps far away in the corridors. It was easy to recognise this fast, determined pace; Luke instantly recalled the wind created by a long black cloak wavering in the air - and saw the lines of an ugly mask covering no less ugly face...

Darth Vader entered the room after five minutes or so. It was undeniable that he knew - his visit wasn't unnoticed, although his son didn't even turn to him, still keeping their pretty young eyes on the galaxies swirling before them. Luke Skywalker would never submit to him or Palpatine. Exactly as he always predicted. Anakin inside the cyborg's dying body was proud like any good father would be. The worst part was that the boy who considered himself cursed with his parent didn't even know how great Vader had to struggle to keep his own suffering in secret. Vader was seen only like a traitor and a terrorising danger for any living being...

But there was too much hidden away. And even his son couldn't know all the truth because he would try to force him to Jedis' side - the twist Vader couldn't afford to make for he had lost faith into any faction. It was better to let things be as they were. Anakin was too old to start from the beginning...

The figure approached Luke, now holding back its rush - and stood still when there was ten steps between them. The Jedi was grateful for his "dad" didn't dare to close the distance - the young man would hate this person to be near him. Not after everything that abomination did. Not after what he did to Padme...

Although... It would be bad to push Vader away too. After all, he was trying. It was impossible to stay unaware about Darth's attempts to do anything to provide his offspring with all the youth needed. Sometimes, Luke thought about it while lying in his bedroom. He felt pity for the man - if it was still a man - especially because the boy remembered why Anakin became what he became.

But... Was it Anakin?..

Silence was interrupted by muffed sound of breathing coming from the mask and creaking of leather gloves.

- Is there something bothering you, son?

Rich, husky voice filled Skywalker Jr's head. He heard calmness and care in its boomy tone which, however, made him only raise his shoulders up, protecting himself from that love he didn't seek at all.

- That's nothing to worry about.

Vader exhaled louder than usually.

- I can sense it even if you lie to me - what you have managed to improve a lot since you're here, Luke... - He paused; sound of his breathing started getting on the youth's nerves. - Please... Tell me. I need to know.

The boy grunted. He finally looked at his father, his gaze mean and defiant as Luke examined every inch of the thick cobalt armour.

"Interesting... How much does it hurt to wear this horrifying suit every day?.. I hope it's enough to never forget how his wife died... And others too..."

- There is no use. You won't be able to understand...

- It's not your problem. I just need it.

Young man stared at the colorful lamps blinking chaotically on the Darth Vader's costume. Anakin could recognise a conflict rising behind the facade of an unnaturally still, neutral expression his son put on. This made his corrupted heart itch with faint, sweet pain; at least, there was already a small victory - the boy didn't say no right away second time.

Finally, Luke spoke again, his face softening.

- Come here.

Dark commander obeyed. Now the Jedi could see only countless belts on his high boots and a piece of the cloak. The cloth smelled like... Death: blood, fire, ash, sweat and other unpleasant signs of war...

Did he even try to wash this nasty stink off for once?..

- Do you promise to keep your judgement for yourself if I do?

Although Luke didn't lift his head up, he was sure Vader gave him a look.

- ...Whatever you wish for.

- Good.

The boy turned to the window again; at that moment there was an explosion of acid-green snakes pointing their greedy maws in all directions. Their blind, blunt muzzles looked funnily pathetic.

- Just before you took me as your personal prisoner... - Luke started, making a visible accent on two last words. - The faction was joined by a very young girl. She was even younger than me. There were not so many warriors to find at least one who could properly teach her to fight - I don't say that she wasn't familiar with a saber at all. Regardless... Her technique was terrible. I took her as a student, but... She is now alone due to I'm, her master, is here. And I'm worried she can get into trouble with some of yours...

Vader felt a pang of guilt knocking into his soul when he received the shot addressed to him. His son's cruelty hit him hard no matter the time or place - and he knew he deserved it. However, every punch in the guts made him feel deeply betrayed. Anger arose inside, and Anakin clenched his fist, preparing himself for a fight...

He watched as the boy did the same. Naturally, his gaze fell on the Luke's wrist and... He slowly eased the grip. A thin line separating human flesh and a prosthesis shone with soft silver light, reminding of their previous collision in all details...

Vader didn't want to go through that once more.

- At first, you're not a prisoner here. - He hissed, stepping away; the boy could catch genuine sorrow even through the noise of the modulator. - And next... I'm sorry to hear your sympathies are still with Jedies. I don't blame you, though. The time will come.

Unsatisfactory and resentment which had been constantly growing through these past month instantly burst out of the child in a desperate cry:

- Don't you see!? IT WILL NEVER COME!!! - Luke jumped on his feet, backing out of the black man. - You... Murderer...

His mind was blurred by immeasurable fury which hindered him to feel change in his father's emotional state. Vader stood, crooked, firmly grinding his teeth and invisibly clenching his chest as if someone cut him open. But very soon, he straightened up.

- Very well, Luke... Very well...

Darth Vader turned on his heels and headed to the door, but as he had to go through the gap, something made the commander to wait.

- Do you love her? That girl?

The question hanged in tensed atmosphere of the space. Luke leisurely wiped saliva flew out of his mouth when he shouted, and sniffed, a weak smile forming on his lips. Now he looked unbelievably similar to his father in the latter's young years.

- No. We are just friends... Well... Good friends. I love her like I love Leia.

Anakin nodded. Avoiding his son's intent gaze, Vader walked out; and while passing through the deem halls of the ship, he was once again turning into alive representation of horror which gloved hands grabbed the universe by its throat...

Changing skin, he bled.

........

Y/N didn't expect to meet him in such a short time, especially after she lost her mentor. But there he was; Darth Vader himself stood a few metres away from her, holding his red light saber. She couldn't help but flinched at his enormous height and brawny body. Personally, she was the shortest even among her allies many of whom didn't stand out by an impressive body complexion - the little Jedi was like nothing more but a doll comparing to him...

As for her comrades: two of them weren't so far from here. But, surely, they couldn't handle this ruthless beast even if they all would work together. Dark commander was way too strong. So, she sent them a message to run. Y/N wasn't sure they would follow her instructions... But at least, they had a chance to escape during these few minutes she could buy them before Vader would kill her.

At the meantime, guided by childish curiosity, she studied the one she was told so many blood-curdling stories about. Inky cloak covering wide, thick shoulders; solid torso with a big panel set on it - bright lights twinkling in the orange fog; long gloves, boots... The part of him which intimidated her the most was his visors. She was used to look her opponents directly in the eyes, but this icy, stable gaze was so inhuman that the Jedi could hardly bear it.

- I feel your fear... - Her heart sank as she heard him for the first time, the girl being hypnotized by that low, gravelly baritone. - Why opposing me just by yourself? Or are your friends such cowards that they won't help you defeat me?..

He took one step forward; she activated her own sword and struck a defensive pose.

At that moment, they both were taken off guard by a roar of a space shuttle's engines. Y/N sighed in relief; the ship took off and quickly disappeared in the night sky, heading to the base where her friends would be safe... And leaving her behind.

"Well, even if it's not me, I'm happy. They will survive..."

- Sneaky, brave fool... - Shaking violently, she turned to her enemy once more. He didn't move, but something inside her told Y/N that he was ready for a leap. - What a shame. You made a fatal mistake, sending them away. Such inexperienced and young girl like you is no match for me, don't you understand?..

- Perhaps. - She responded, carefully watching Vader and preparing for his attack. - At least, I'll do what I can. And if I die, so be it. My teacher once said that there was no better death than a death for a right thing.

The cyborg tittled his head on a side like a dog listening to its owner. The girl would giggle if her existence wasn't on the table at that very minute.

- Who told you that?

Y/N bit her lip, not being certain if it was OK to reveal the name. After a proper consideration, she found there was nothing left to lose for her anyway...

The Jedi cleared her throat; the tongue felt dry and hot as she spoke, her angelic voice being slightly brittel.

- Luke Skywalker.

If there was a witness - an average person who had never heard of war and the force - they would notice nothing. Vader simply kept his position, his awful mask turned to the girl. However, the latter sensed much. And the main thing was that Vader... Knew her.

The Jedi recognised chills wandering over her entire body. She couldn't remember what she managed to do to provoke someone so powerful to trail her. Despite this, Y/N seemed to be guilty for somewhat crime that made the plague of the universe, Lord Darth Vader memorise a little maid who hadn't seriously harmed anyone yet in her entire life...

- I see... - He finally sighed. The girl wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear regret in his quiet, rumbling voice. - That is a great warrior of your kind...

He shrugged his shoulders, trying to lay the cape on them in a more comfortable position.

- Then, let's see if your master has given you anything more than just some inspirational quotes...

Y/N gasped; she was deadly close to missing the second he jumped forward. Luckily, she awakened just in time and instead of the girl's flat chest Vader's saber met the blue laser light.

They fought almost in ringing silence; her accidental squelches and his scarry, sick breath were the only sounds ruining it. She immediately saw that she wouldn't last long with the pace her enemy had chosen; his harsh, but accurate movements were very difficult to block. Y/N didn't even try to switch her tactics to offensive one since she didn't possess enough time to reply on his endless thrusts. The Jedi spinned like a peg-top in attempts to stay alive a bit longer; fortunately, that time her diminutiveness played along with her interests. Although, neither small size, nor dexterity could protect her from small cuts Vader gifted her with here and there from time to time.

At last, the maid was able to give herself space to swallow some fresh air. She got exhausted; her arms refused to serve her any longer as well as legs. Y/N had to strain all the will she owned to stay straight. The man, however, was literally tireless - while Y/N was ready to collapse right at the stones of the square where they spared, the half-metal abomination she stood against looked like he did just before the battle. He, unbothered by her maneuver, vigorously decreased the space between them, distinctly showing that he was about to finish the annoying little fly disturbing him from much more important businesses.

That was it. Pushed to the edge, the girl threw all her cautiousness away and ran towards him, using her last opportunity; unpredictable behaviour and pure desperation. Their blades crossed again with electrical buzzing, spreading sparks all around the place; the warriors got as close as two people who sincerely hate each other could be. Y/N courageously stared right in the shallow spheres of Vader's visors, sweating as her tiny palms sored, holding a heavy saber and a weight of an adult man pushing on it with all his might.

- It's over, Jedi. - He said silently.

Before Y/N could do anything he sharply kicked her knee; the girl being paralysed by the abrupt pain weakened the grip and lost her weapon, falling right to the Vader's feet.

He was correct. It was over.

She expected him to cut off her head immediately. Instead, the man rose his hand and Y/N detected the force washing around her limbs and neck. It soon became hard to breathe. Struggling in the stealthy net of unconditional power, she granted her adversary one last look. His fuzzy, pitch black silhouette and a round slice of the moon in a vail of ochre evaporations on the background created the last image which popped out into her suffocating mind as the dizziness led her to unconsciousness...

.......

When Y/N came to her senses, there first things she found were humidity and darkness; the latter was so deep that it took time for the girl to understand that she wasn't asleep anymore. Then the Jedi sighted that she was in a tube. Slippery and soft material had been periodically tightening around her and dragging her being somewhere down into the endless abyss. There was warm; although the girl got constantly squeezed from head to toe, she didn't feel bad about it. Actually, it reminded her of a hearty hug which her mother gave her when Y/N was standing at the doorstep of their home, ready to go for her destiny. This memory brought a smile across the maid's pretty face.

She was alive. It was undiscussable like the fact that sand in her lands was yellow. However, even God wouldn't be able to say why Darth Vader let her live. Also it was a mystery where the girl really was and why she was travelling downwards....

The tugs pulling her further and further into obscurity were accompanied by wet, short sounds which were surprisingly similar to... swallowing. It appeared like an unknown large creature devoured her whole, although such idea seemed too crazy to be the truth. Nevertheless, there were no other options. Y/N's mind was still drowsy which prevented the Jedi from panicking. Moreover - if the hypothesis was right, then she could do nothing; the tense grip of the fleshy tube and its slick surface didn't give her any chance to struggle successfully.

However, the fall didn't last long: quite soon Y/N was pushed into a bigger room which was still dark but much cozier. Some kind of liquid splashed underneath the girl as she arrived, though it didn't bother her much due to her clothes and hair had already been soaked with viscous slime in and out. The walls churned gently against her skin, massaging her stiffed muscles; faint gurgling and rhythmic "thump-thump" sound vibrating all around proved that the girl had sent her thoughts in a right direction.

Y/N pawed her waist but... predictably, she found nothing. The saber was gone, lost... it ment that if the whoever had eaten her didn't let the Jedi out by themselves, she wouldn't be released at all. A new wave of fear fulfilled her soul; she clearly imagined the process of slow, racking digestion preparing endless hours of agony for her to experience. The little Jedi curled into a ball, trembling; that's not what she thought her meaning for the world would be.

- Are you awake, Jedi? Good. I missed your company.

The words resonated in every cell of her velvet cage. Her eyes widened as the girl recognised the speaker.

- Can't be... How... - She mumbled sheepishly in confusion, looking around the stomach with so puzzled face expression as if she didn't do that a minute ago.

- Shrinking shouldn't have done you any damage.

Her heart skipped a beat.

- Are you... Still scared?

Of course, he read her emotions as if she was just an open book... No one could resist Darth Vader's force for long. It was pointless to hide or play with him. So, Y/N didn't: she laid back on the bouncy floor, letting its receptors explore her body, and lowered her eyelids.

- I am.

She thought he would laugh at her honesty, but it seemed that day Vader was up to break all her expectations: the man stayed mute. His quiet pulse and breath - here it sounded a little bit different than from the outside: it seemed as if Vader had to lift a rock with every inhale he did - were calm and somehow reassuring.

- Can I ask you something, your majesty?

Vader only hummed in response, giving her a permission to go on, though he knew the question long ago.

- Why?

She couldn't see it, but Anakin smiled. His helmet was still off; his eyes sored, burning like they were immersed in acid, and lungs scarcely contracted; however, his small internal guest's naive tone extremely amused him. He wasn't surprised his son adored this little maid.

- You haven't been involved in anything that would mean danger to me personally; and you're a too feeble to influence the situation in general. There is no worthy reason I should seek for your death.

- But...

- Just relax. I'm not going to harm you. What's done... It's done for your own good.

The adrenaline began to wear off. Y/N, slightly shivering as her nerves was settling down, instinctively snuggled more into the pillowy wrinkles of the organ which caused some mild-mannered growls. Tears of relief formed in the corners of her eyes. She couldn't believe Darth Vader talked to her like that; from what she knew about the dark commander, such kindness was basically impossible in his case...

Meanwhile, she felt as one of the walls leaned to her side, the muscles rubbing gently against her skin.

- There we go... It's OK. Of course, you were scared. But it's OK. Now, there is no threat to you...

His hand was pressed against the spot where the Sith could sense her presence. He had to put the mask on its place - Anakin couldn't longer endure the choking feeling growing in his chest with every new breath he took - and, after setting up some filters, watched as grey twilights were giving birth to the beautiful, lucid dawn. He heard his tiny prisoner's crying, but the comfort he provided her with seemed to work; after some time, the Jedi calmed down. Continuing to stroke his middle with the force - unfortunately, pleasures of non-verbal contact was lost for him decades ago - and making sure the girl felt it, he said:

- To be fair, I'm impressed. You held on much longer than I supposed you would... Luke did teach you something, after all...

Y/N being lulled by the lights touch and the man's mesmerising voice was almost asleep when these commentaries reached her ears. In order to that, she thought little while responding. Yawning, she mumbled, gently kneading alive "matras" beneath:

- With all do respect... I... I won't betray Jedies...

This was the last sentence coming out of her mouth before she started snoring peacefully, being completely drawn out of energy.

Vader chuckled.

"I would never doubt it, my brave little foe".

............

Luke Skywalker was in his quarters when he was reported that his father had just returned from a mission. The boy patiently waited before the soldier would come out and then - fell on his bed, hiding the face in cushions. Such moments were the worst part of his staying with Siths because he knew what kind of "missions" his father participated in. Gallons of his comrades' blood smeared Vader's hands. If all the people Vader killed would turn into ghosts, the ship would get crowded with them like a market square.

However, he had to greet Anakin in the main hall - that ritual was mandatory.

So, the boy obliged himself to stand up.

He was preparing himself for the meeting when, suddenly, he heard a quiet, but firm knock. The force was too difficult to recognise.

- Come in...

Not a man - a shadow slipped in the room and freezed in the centre. Despite strange look of the visitor, Luke seemed to cheered up by their arrival.

- My dear friend... - He gave the shadow a good pat.

But they had to be cautious. The Jedi walked to the gap his pal went through - and peeped outside, making sure no one had been following the intruder. Then he locked the door.

One of the few things Luke was grateful to his father for was lack of video-cameras in the boy's part of the space ship. Although, the were regular spies watching every his step, but even the most skilled spy can be deceived... And so, Luke had this unspoken opportunity. Undeniably, all the responsibility was on him only; nevertheless, he was ready to take the risk.

In order to that, he was always aware of what his allies were up to.

The shadow man respectfully bowed to the Jedi and leaned to the latter's ear, whispering inaudibly. Luke's face went sober.

- Are you sure?

The guest confirmed.

- Crap... - Skywalker Jr. slammed his palm with a fist. His lips turned white. - ... Did anyone...?

After receiving a negative gesture, the Jedi's pale sheeks got poured with blush.

- Blessing to the Gods...

Luke's face got even happier as he caught the last phrase said by his signalman.

- Oh, my dear... You have no idea what great news you have brought today!.. The lose of the planet is undoubtedly critical - I'm mourning with all our brothers and sisters about the lives which costed to protect it for so long... But... But she, my beloved pupil is found!.. Thank you very much for your assistance - I promise, I won't ever forget how hard you have always served us...

The shadow bowed again, that time a little lower. Then a long, thin, bare-boned arm appeared from under the folds of the cloak and pointed on the boy's wrist where the watches could be seen. Luke swatted his forehead in frustration.

- Damn... I'm almost late! Sorry, my friend - I definitely have do go before my every day nightmare suspected anything... You can't stay as well - let me uncover the way... Come on, come on...

The youth rushed to one of the walls and opened a tiny shield concealing some secret buttons only he and his father knew about. The sensors was set up to react solely to Luke's touch - one more reason for the boy to continue normal relationships with his dad - that way, no one could activate the mechanism unless a person had a piece of Skywalker's hand. The Jedi harshly dialed the password and one of the walls parted on two, revealing a narrow corridor illuminated with red lamps on the seiling.

- Get in! Fast!..

The shadow didn't make Luke ask twice - the visitor sank in with no extra hesitation, getting lost in a trice, consumed by the surroundings. Luke didn't have time to guide him; overall, his friend knew where that way led and what to do once they were out. Being sure the guest would leave the ship without a single trouble, the boy finished his outfit and went out, heading for the main dec.

Darth Vader had been already waiting for him there.

- Good day, father. Well? How did it go? Can I congratulate you with a new victory? - He shouted with a smile which was half sincere... But only for a half.

- You can. - The Lord's tone sounded kinda apathetic as if he was speaking about nothing important. - Many thanks, Luke. Did anything happen while I was away?

- Not really... - The boy said, scratching his head. - Well, two soldiers tried to destroy each other for some reason. I haven't digged in this much. Both are in jail now...

Luke could swear Anakin rolled his eyes behind the mask.

- I see. Tell the tribunal officer I'll deal with them later... There is still work to do...

- Sure thing.

The task was complete; the youth granted his father a sweet grin (a little too sweet to be honest). The dark commander was about to go, but something made him to change his mind.

- But first of all... Go after me.

A storm was coming. Skywalker Jr. subconsciously got into the battle mode. The duo crossed the hall and took a direction to the Luke's apartments. While on the way, the boy was preying to all the saints he knew.

"How could father be possibly aware? Counting on my watches, the envoy should have been already departed. I really hope he hasn't been captured... Though, my private passage doesn't connect to any of the official ones... The landing pod also belongs just to me...

What do I miss?.."

By the time he ended up his inner monologue, he and Anakin had reached their destination. Once at the place, Vader continued.

- I think I have something to hand over...

Feeling coolness expanding in his chest, the youth watched louringly as his father put a hand in a pocket and then pulled it out, having something squeezed inside.

- They wanted me to give it right in your hands...

Luke's world fell apart like a glass ball when he took a small golden medallion representing an artistically forged figure of a dolphin. He slowly blinked in shock; his feet were weak as if they were made of cotton wool. All the good mood he had was literally smashed my the view of his little student's only jewellery - the one they decided to use for communication. If Vader had it, then...

But the ambassador said...

Or did his friend mistaken...

Only now, Luke heard footsteps tailing off; Vader being nowhere around.

- WAIT! - Luke yelled, flying out of the room. He noticed the flash of a coal-colour cloak floating just before him and started a chase. - Wait, hey you!!!..

Anakin turned back. He confidently, softly looked at his pissed off child who was ready to chop his wires into spaghetti.

The weight in his belly shifted - the girl must be turning around. Bad dreams...

- Be proud, son. She is a true Jedi.

#soft vore #safe vore #star wars vore #Darth Vader vore #hurt/comfort #angst #Luke is very mean to his father

20 notes · View notes