#cw: vore

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Parasite Problem

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

After Susie is severely injured in a major battle, Kris elects to take on a very difficult and dangerous task to help her out with a smaller problem.

PHEW this comic has felt like it's been taking me forever to do, and I've still got more left to finish, but hopefully all the rest goes smoothly!

[shizunitis]

question for the council: is it vore or vore adjacent if, hypothetically, shen yuan was transmigrated into binghe’s body, but vacated the premises to revive binghe and return his life to him, thus awakening in binghe a need to get shen yuan back inside of him, kind of in a “i never want to separate from you” way? i’m asking for a friend

[bramble-mouse]

My first time doing audio mixing ;; Please relax and enjoy.

[falgaia]

SAFE SKIN

for Tax Day 2024

[dirtybg3confessions]

I want Orin to castrate me, feed me my own balls on a silver platter, and keep me as her most special most favorite puppy.

[megapocalypse]

Controversial take everybody but I think Bingmei should be swallowed whole and be kept safely inside Shizun's tummy, and Bing-ge should be bingjuiced into a smoovie and have a strange sexual awakening inside Shizun's tummy 🥺

[dirty-ffxiv-confessions]

Confession: I need Y'shtola Rhul to actually swallow me whole but like idk do you all think she'd do it if I asked her politely enough?

[voxofthevoid]

On this fine Wednesday, can I interest anyone in consensual vore with a side of incest?

CW: graphic descriptions of non-lethal cannibalism; the eaten party being awake and aware during said cannibalism; sibling incest where one party doesn't believe they're siblings

“I’m not letting you do that,” Yuuji says, pressing down on Chōsō with all his weight; the state Yuuji’s in, Chōsō could throw him off easy as anything, but he doesn’t, which is exactly what Yuuji’s banking on. “This is bad enough without you…carving yourself up like steak.”

“It’s really not—”

“No.” Yuuji resettles, lifting his body off Chōsō to kneel between his legs, most of his weight still on the hands gripping Chōsō’s shoulders. There’s a lot of this that’s familiar—the position, their half-naked bodies, hooded eyes peering up at Yuuji. That somehow makes what he’s about to do feel worse, more perverse, but it’s still leagues better than letting Chōsō do that to himself for Yuuji’s sake. “I’ll do it. It’s just jaw strength anyway. I’m not that weak.”

“No one would accuse you of weakness, Yuuji,” Chōsō says, a trace of a sigh in his voice; Yuuji ignores Sukuna’s grumbled disagreement. The strange smile flirting with Chōsō’s lips is a more interesting sight. “I have such troublesome brothers.”

“Oh, come on, don’t—” Yuuji cuts himself off. It’s useless, and at this point, indulging Chōsō’s weird brother complex is the least he could do. “Are you ready?”

And Chōsō must know the question is more for Yuuji’s sake than his own, but he hums a reassurance anyway, tilting his head to the side to better bare the meat of his shoulder. Yuuji swallows thickly. He blames Chōsō’s attempt to serve himself up like dinner for his mind trying—and failing epically—to imagine it as a prime cut of steak. On the bright side, if Yuuji had actually felt hungry for even a moment, he’d never have forgiven himself.

“Sorry,” he mutters, the way he once did before killing this man’s actual brother, and dives in.

Flesh parts under his teeth, and Yuuji doesn’t stop until it comes apart in his mouth.

He has the sense not to chew.

The meat slides wetly down his throat, lodging at the base before a desperate, convulsive swallow forces it all the way down.

Cursed energy explodes inside him, a surge of alien power that’s quickly, devastatingly devoured by something Yuuji can’t even pretend is Sukuna. It’s nothing like the power that seeped into him slow and steady and almost sweet when it was just Chōsō’s blood wetting his mouth; if that was a trickle, this is a flood. He shudders through it, slumping against Chōsō until the metallic scent drenching the air makes him notice that Chōsō’s shoulder is still am open wound, the blood flow stemmed but the chunk of flesh still missing.

“Why are you—Chōsō, heal it!”

Chōsō says, “Take…more.”

Yuuji almost argues, but there’s a strain in Chōsō’s voice that wasn’t there any of the times before, and he’s reminded that this is harder for him too, and if this isn’t enough, if Yuuji has to do this again, he’ll be hurting this man again for no good reason.

He screws his eyes shut and bites deep, his teeth meeting each other through the fleeting resistance of flesh.

He swallows.

Another bite, another chunk of meat down his throat, another surge of power.

“Enough,” Yuuji says, mouth close enough to Chōsō’s torn shoulder to feel the steamy heat rising from it. “That’s enough, Chōsō.”

Under him, Chōsō heaves a shuddering sigh.

Yuuji pries his eyes open, forcing himself to look, to see.

He’s made a carnage of Chōsō’s shoulder. Yuuji barely paused to feel his depraved mouthfuls, and he couldn’t tell if the constriction of his throat had been from their size or just pure disgust. Now, looking at what he’s done, it’s clear his teeth weren’t as careful, as clean, as Yuuji had wanted.

Torn skin and exposed muscle. No bone, at least. But the whole shoulder is a mass of meat.

“Chōsō, I’m so—”

A sweaty palm curls around the side of Yuuji’s jaw, thumb slotting over his lips. Yuuji smothers the instinctive urge to pull away—and the even worse impulse to open his mouth and catch that flesh between his teeth for reasons that have nothing to do with consumption. He stays put, watching as Chōsō heals himself. His eyes are closed, and he’s breathing deeply and evenly through his nose. His shoulder is knitting itself back together, slower than all the times he’s healed before, and Yuuji hardly dares to breathe until every stray drop of blood is reabsorbed and every bloody tear fades into unmarred flesh.

Chōsō opens his eyes; they’re all pupil.

His cursed energy is a storm inside Yuuji, and there’s rot in it, a sensation Yuuji is infinitely familiar with, but it’s nothing like the endless festering that’s taken up residence in his soul. This just is.

It almost feels good.

“Thank you,” Yuuji chokes out.

He’s rewarded with a soft, drunken smile. Chōsō’s hand slides down from his jaw, skimming the lines of Yuuji’s neck and shoulder before falling limply to the bed.

“I’m glad it worked.”

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Meeting Susie 1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Well, they met after Kris already sold their soul...and got off to a bit of a rough start! Turns out there's a bit of a learning curve for taming eldritch beasts.

(This short scene series will continue soon!)

[officialbruciewayne]

Question: could you, in any scenario, find being physically eaten or physically eating another attractive (sexual caniballism has been a hot topic today and Im just so curious about your feelings on the topic)

I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask this topic...

Generally, Brucie Wayne will try anything once, but this truly sounds like it might be something I would try once - because in at least one of these scenarios, I'm snuffed. I've eaten some unusual things, particularly in my youth, but I won't murder another person, so the other scenario is firmly no.

[bramble-mouse]

"Hey, hey, hey. Deep breath, buddy."

Your giant friend's voice is so gentle as you shield your eyes from lights that are too bright, from feeling too much. You struggle out of your hoodie because the fabric is too scratchy in your arms and throw it away. You are on the verge of tears or screaming.

"Show me how I can help."

Your friend's massive voice again, but so soft, so gentle like the crash of ocean waves. You cannot find words right now so you open your eyes a moment, leveling a shaking finger in the direction of thier mouth.

The giant pauses and you feel gentle hands lift you off the ground as you squeeze your eyes shut again, cover your ears with you hands.

"Okay. Let's get you down."

The giant says, and you curl up, rocking to self soothe in the dip of their palm.

"It's okay. I'm right here."

You feel everything more than see it- a blast of warm air. The feeling of a great tongue beneath you. The deafening gulp that sends you down thier throat. The squeeze of throat muscles guiding you towards the giant's core.

Inside thier belly, it's dark. It's pleasantly humid and warm, and the walls squeeze around you, kneading tension from your body. As the organ gurgles harmlessly around you, you focus on the steady thumping of a colossal heart above you. The giants stomach mimics digesting you but does no harm. It simply groans loudly, massaging you as it your cradles body.

"Stay in there as long as you want, okay?"

The giant's muffled yet omnipresent voice reassures, then falls silent, allowing their stomach to do its usual work- to return you to ease, to help you regulate and coax you out of overstimulation.

[dreamlostdevourer]

The Origin Of A Name.

cw: doll vore, descriptions of vore, predscape, rebirth This is the story of one of my OCs, the doll eater. It's a short narrative about how you need sharp teeth for metal meat, and how legends are forged.

Most witches have intuitive or descriptive names, such as the witch of spilled inks, or "the echoing static".

Sometimes, they have names that let you know when to run away. Unsimple names, like "Katrina the sky devourer" or "please don't think about her loudly." are a red flag.

These names, no matter if they are chosen or assigned, tend to help a witch fit into the mind of the viewer. But Names also have power.

Sometimes the names feed the image of the witch, pushing their choices, aligning fates, nudging cosmic strings. One such name is the Doll Eater.

Originally, the name of "Doll Eater" was a sort of loose joke. The Doll Eater once worked a scrapyard for witches, harvesting the energies and materials of discarded dolls.

And once, on a bet? She had eaten a doll's eye, so they named her the Doll Eater. Not a whole doll, but that is how rumors start.

"The Doll Eater." was soon on the lips of far too many.

Maybe a doll overheard the name on the streets, or a wizard etched it as threat against intruders, maybe a witch simply sought to dispose of a doll discreetly with a scapegoat. But a name that raises such a question? Dashes forward, unbound by truth, spreading a new nightmare for dolls.

The changes were obvious, but only in hindsight.

The first sign of the name twisting her? Her mouth watered while pulling apart an old combat doll, and not in the typical way.

While the hammer and chisel broke apart joints, the desire to taste the doll sinew caught her tongue. Without consideration, she plucked out and devoured a tendon.

A co-worker saw her, and called her Doll Eater again, and she grinned, accepting it, and granting the name more power.

Then even off the clock, she let her eyes evaluate dolls like prized hogs. The idea of scrapping a doll, then nicking a bit there, biting there, pulling things apart?

It filled her with warmth.

Her dreams started to twist.

From fighting and fucking combat dolls to tearing them apart with her new sharp angelic teeth. Day dreaming of a mouthful of combat armor, a stomach full of defeated dolls.

She yawned, her tongue dancing over her teeth. Suddenly, they felt utterly dull.

Returning from the faesmith, her mouth glistens with teeth of shattered halos, and flesh of demonic leather.

Sharp teeth for metal meat.

And that day at work, a living doll, sent for disposal, meekly offered her arm.

And the Doll Eater accepted her fate.

She brought the doll's arm to her mouth, and lips trailing tender kisses up to her shoulder joint. Deep breath. A jaw full of shimmering inhuman fangs. The scream of rending metal. And the scream of a doll. In full joy-pain, being torn apart by a cackling mechanic.

In three swift bites, the Doll Eater had severed the mechanical arm with her teeth. Shards of enchanted alloys and gooey strings of oil-bound magics dotted the floor, mechanical crashing and joyous moans in the air.

When a doll asked about her meal, her eyes went dreamy, mumbling that the metal meat tasted of rapturous emotions, stillness and sugar. That the gooey vital fluids tasted of soft memories, hope and agony. And the smell. The smell. Her warmly sinister grin emerged as she recalled the smell.

This time, word of her feast shot around the world. Vicious and detailed recollections, never quite agreeing or disagreeing on what she looked like or was. For her own part, the Doll Eater simply devoured more dolls, some of them even volunteering. Her human body broke down, corroding into metal and lore. She was lost to the name now.

The human stomach was, of course, not meant to eat metal, magic, emotion, dream and mainspring more than once or twice a lifetime. Simple magics helped her at first, but the name changed her.

Over a quick week, her skin dripped off, revealing quicksilver blood, slivers of magical weaving, freshly made grinding gears and rusty streaks of gore. We don't know what happened inside that body, nor do we want to.

The changes? Were euphoric for her, of course.

Her old name was gone.

The mechanic was simply a vessel that the Doll Eater tore free of. Dolls came to her voluntarily, and she let herself take trophies of them.

A lock of metal hair, a crystalline eye, geodesic joints, impossible weapons. Her memories of joyous kills and filling meals.

Every doll eaten made her feel more at home in her myth, and the narrative wore away at halo teeth and leather tongue, reforming them into shimmering shredding gears and demonic digestive bases, quicksilver flesh and tongue.

The Doll Eater had emerged from the debris of her old self.

As her legend grew, she heard a soft, quiet voice in her head. Then another, and another.

Dead dolls, "souls" having rested in her body and mind, asked politely to be reformed. Out of confusion and decorum, the Doll Eater obliged.

To call the first aborted attempts horrific would be polite.

But with time and more victims, they learned to create as well as destroy. Extruding new dolls, devouring old ones.

Reshaping those that earned their change. And with these stories, their legend grew again, no longer in leaps and bounds, but steady, even growth.

Now she heard dolls in her aura that didn't want to leave, voices of the souls stolen by her gullet.

She learned the secrets of those she ate, claiming the patches of reality they offered her. The dolls who feared her knew she could eat a hunter, and learn it's secrets, and continue the hunt.

As mountains rose and fell, her legend waxed and waned. Her power is no longer all encompassing, but she always all consuming.

Offer her a limb, she will take it. Doll, wizard, demon, angel, or witch? She does not care, meat is meat, minds are minds. And if you ask nicely and give yourself in whole?

She will eat you slowly and gladly, take you into her, and grant you the new self you wanted.

And yes, she has those who follow her. And demand to be eaten often, and she will oblige. And remake them. A cycle of death and rebirth. A promise of renewal.

Give yourself upon her sharp teeth, pledge your soul and meat.

She will be there to turn you from living to dead and back again.

But do get in line, it's first come, first served.

[vermakesthings]

WIP, supernatural world

The story of the first vampire

Oh, Merinthu, oh Merinthu, 

How cruel, a fate bestowed for you,

Your daughter sick, beyond all heal,

Alchemist be, this fate repeal.

You tried all spell, you tried all drought,

You tried your faith, yet all for naught.

At last you turned, your oath released,

And went then south, for god of beast.

There blood you took, from god’s warm corpse,

Returned in swift, towards, Renorps,

There daughter lay in sleep, alive,

so you then rushed, for life you strive.

The blood, it heals, your wife you told,

Though you did fear it’s power’s hold,

Your daughter young, you dared not test,

So upon thyself took in chest.

It burned from start, you screamed and raged,

Your hunger grew, till could not cage,

No food your wife could find would sate,

Your thirst for blood, thy cursed fate.

You held out long, went not insane,

Yet in the end, it was your bane,

Your delay robbed you full of thought,

Your daughter slept, her fate now wrought.

You pounced her, biting her neck, to drink,

The blood desired, your hearts in sync,

As life was drained, your wife was stuck,

Her child’s death, in fear laid struck.

You came to, hunger truly gone,

Lilumia, teeth still held, undrawn,

You felt her warmth begin to fade,

You panic, your blood then flew, and prayed.

Thy blood divine, it healed you full,

Your daughter, teeth in veins, they pull,

The blood you’d drained, returned in whole,

And blood divine, you couldn’t control.

Her blood now heals, by godly might,

And even death, its hold can’t fight.

You heard her heart again, its beat,

Was strong, and fast, its sound so sweet.

Though child life restored, thine wife,

Could see no more than corpse and strife.

She fled thy home, thy life, thy world,

You sought, and found her life unfurled.

[kittenchancorruptionarc]

Awwwww cmonnn!

Are you too shy to admit you wanna be swallowed whole? Which would be your favourite part? The mouth, sliding down someones throat or actually getting to their warm stomach 👀 ?

…

Sliding down…

[specialsummon]

“The Door of Darkness has opened. Pets are free to choose who they point their fangs at. Once you forget that, you lose.”

[gryphons-n-kelpies]

Omg. Please. Tell me more details!

Well, I asked him if he'd still love me if I was a man-eating monster. Then he said he'd love me more and even hoped that I'd eat him (in his thoughts)! So I gave him what he wanted. I unhinged my jaw and took his whole head in my mouth and started eating him. But after I did that, he started crying and telling me he didn't want me to eat him and he didn't want to die. :( I felt so bad I didn't finish him

Morogh. You pansy. You can't just hope someone vore your ass and then pussy out in the middle of it. Don't you have class!? I didn't raise you to be a wuss!

But in any case. I find this quite amusing. I'd believe if this was Canon Morogh, he'd actually experiment by seeing how it feels to be eaten by letting you bite into his arm.