#eaten alive troupe

[thenuggetfamine]

First time for everything. It will be ok

[suzyandthefox]

Edgy preds

Or like, Angry brooding preds in general

Assertive, Domineering preds, that consume you mentally with their authority just like they consume you literally.

If you squirm inside them, you're met with a stern,sharp "Stay still!", or a deep growl.

They do not tell you that they're going to take you somewhere safe, instead they scan you with their eyes then immediately go with the process,not wasting a single second.

Preds who let their actions speak for themselves, who let their innards do the comforting and the holding.

The quiet brooding rogue in your party, resulting to an unorthodox method of helping you when things are too dire.

The dragon in it's lair, aiming to punish you for daring to steal from it's hoard.

The fabled giant that everyone feared, finally finding you.

A dark knight rescuing a peasant.

Like, I love sweet preds,And I love evil preds, and I love bastard preds.

But give me edgelord preds, Give me people who are so hardened on the outside you literally have to reach inside them to find that softness.

Give me edgy preds that only trusts a single person with their innards.

Does anyone get what I'm trying to say?

[yuco-the-alien116]

3.5/6 Nom drive!

I'm going crazy with this, let me cook bro

So meny tinys, and their will only be more!

[pineappleparfaitie]

new oc. She tastes like pure sugar and shes a very sweet pred but an awful and i mean awful prey

[apoordecisionreally]

Would any of your bois be interested in a lil mouse treat? OwO

Specifically N, N is so pretty

yip yip :p

[rdbrainz]

info post 💪 this one may read a bit stranger than the last one because i just translated the text i initially wrote down in russian (lazy ass) sorry in advance Volto Pirro Ljung Number 3 Zanpakuto: Pazuzu, a rapier twisted into a cone-like shape with golden wings and a skull on its guard Resurrección: Vulture Other: h - 187cm, w - around 84kg, he's not particularly large, but he's also not skinny Status at the end of the story: Alive, location unknown

Volto is the direct personification of someone surrounded by the wrong company. And not so much a company that instills bad habits and opinions, but a company that makes you feel alone. Despite being the number 3, Volto is both an outcast and an integral part of the troupe. He is Pierrot. This is his role, and it's often the subject of jokes and ridicule from the other Arrancar. No theater or circus performance can do without a sad clown because other people's grief is funny. Ljung doesn't share the views of the other members of the troupe about the importance of fun and entertainment in life. He does understand them, because he has been in the same boat as them for hundreds of years now, but he can't find the strength to be content with the same things as others. There is simply nothing to smile about. He has a somewhat nihilistic outlook on life and considers his situation hopeless. But he is still firmly convinced that the seeker will always find either death or answers to his own questions. Only he doesn't know what exactly he should be looking for. As he will realize later - the right people. He clearly understands his position in the group and in this world. He is still here, despite the condescending attitude of others, only because he is useful and there is no point in running away - he has explored Hueco Mundo from high up several times, each time convincing himself even more that there is NOTHING there, and in the human world, he will forever remain a stranger. And there was nothing to do there alone anyway. So Volto simply accepted his fate, smothering the last shreds of hope. He sees his own salvation in fulfilling the troupe's goal, whether it be his own death or world domination. In fact, Volto isn't half as pessimistic as he appears in the story, he's just tired and apathetic due to circumstances. If you strip away all that, you'll find that he has a rather rebellious attitude and a kind, relaxed personality. He's no stranger to emotions and feelings. He's also a cunning son of a bitch and knows a lot about others because he's omnipresent, even though you may not even realize he's around. A moderately cruel but loyal friend. My friend once said he has a hippie vibe and she's probably right. Well, bro is something between a metalhead and a hippie, if we're gonna get into archetypes. Volto is very interested in befriending Ikkon, as they are both loners with untapped talents and potential, but it is to no avail. He constantly follows him around the building whenever the opportunity presents itself and tries to strike up a conversation one way or another. Agreda, as you can imagine, doesn't like that very much. But the two of them have developed a close bond nonetheless.

His ability is to manipulate flesh while absorbing enough of its biomaterial - either the flesh itself or blood. With the living, it is limited in time and effect (plus, the amount he's eaten also plays a role), but with the dead, he can do whatever he wants, up to completely altering the body structure into something completely different - like weapons, wings, or decorative elements. The formation of the troupe was by no means an easy or quick process and "selecting the cast" and establishing the rules of coexistence left behind mountains of corpses, almost all of which Volto got to use. Even now, what remains after his comrades-in-arms falls into his hands. From ones deliberately killed for some peculiarity that would come in handy, to decapitated victims of Ikkon's doings. As time went on, the presence of once-living puppets around him began to take a toll on Volto. No matter how depersonalized he tried to make them, the thought of their origins would not leave him. Activating his Resurrección gives Volto wings with a very large spread and an additional joint that allows him to fold them over his head like a roof. On the back side, they look normal, but on the underside, they are not fully covered in plumage and are full of a large number of strange-looking furrows of flesh and holes from which poison or poisonous gas oozes. Also possesses a deadly breath. The ability aims to take either the life of the victim or someone around them as quickly as possible to use as a puppet later. In short, pessimism is contagious, it poisons not only your life but also those around you, you know *wink-wink*. The power of his wings easily helps him to lift sand into the air and make sandstorms. Pazuzu is a demon of winds, bringing death and drought. Was named after an archetype of Italian theatrical masks (if you can call it that) that most resemble a human face without emotion - Volto. Pirro is a variation of the spelling of Pierrot's name, and the last name Ljung belongs to the Norwegian bass player from Zeromancer, Kim Ljung.

[freydis-freydat]

Who: @alessiathepath When: Some short time after the border crossing Where: A random marketplace? Notes: Another victim of a Freydis hug.

Some small amount of time had passed since the troupe of Isakaran refugees had been granted access to Lysaran soil. In that time Freydis had not seen any of the other women who had been taken the broodmother’s lair, except for Aytaç, and over time the sting of their absence had begun to ebb like the searing pain of a burn slowly receding over time. Even so, Freydis thought of the other young women daily, hoped that too-fast movements from their peripheral visions and the visions of painfully accurate recall did not plague their dreams as they did hers. Almost each day, she had to remind herself in her private, painful manner of where she was, and that they had made it out alive.

Of course, Freydis kept this private, even from Aytaç who would have understood more completely than anyone else. What was not kept private was the sudden, immediate delight in spotting a familiar face in the long stretch of the Lysaran market she was completing her private errands in. Alessia would certainly spot the familiar face floating past vendors and patrons as she approached with a careful swiftness and outstretched hand. 

Freydis embraced Alessia in a controlled, half hug, repressing her urge to smother the young witch out of her excitement to see her. She knew she was lucky Alessia would tolerate as much as a half-effort side hug. She took a moment to adjust the canvas bag of wares she had slung across her body before meeting Alessia’s eye again. It could not be more evident that Freydis was happy to see her. “How are you finding Lysara so far?” she asked–just because she had nothing but an acrid taste in her mouth for the queendom didn’t mean everyone else did. A secondary thought flashed in her mind at the late afternoon hour--she felt compelled to ask. "Have you eaten?"

[cardnompfs]

I've decided considering the circumstances, I will now be using the "Eaten alive troupe" for most of my nommage stuff. Instead of "Vore". Mainly because of me wishing to avoid the sexual community finally. And with Eaten Alive Troupe tag existing, It's basically helps seperate ourself from the sexual vore community to now Nonsexual one..! And i think it suits well..! I do encourage everyone else to make such change but no pressure if you don't.

[ace-aro-taku]

KURO 196 THOUGHTS

So this chapter was bigger than I thought but there is more to the orphanage that we learn.

Classes and lessons are mandatory in this place. Like everything has to be by the book. You have to follow every rule the correct way otherwise there is this unspoken consequence, which has yet to be mentioned.

Then there's Theodore. He's a Pomeranian class kid. He's graceful and elegant as one noble should be. He gives off a vibe of good example and everyone is in awe. Yet there isn't a confirmed age, only that now he is the oldest in the orphanage

This "Fledgling Day" however is giving me The Promised Neverland vibes. Whether it's kids getting to age to become Real!Ciel's blood donor, or to become a Bizarre Doll themselves is still a mystery. Unless there is another Demon assisting Undertaker then... Kids getting eaten by "Demons" is very familiar.

Finny is slowly but surely realizing what is going on. I had a thought that he might know Theodore, but Finny is a bit older than him and so far Theo doesn't have a sign of a tattoo on the back of his neck to show he was also part of the experiments Finny went through. Right now, Theo's demeanor is that similar to R!Ciel or now O!Ciel's kindness would show.

Clearly Doll still talks about the Circus, and these orphanage kids have attachment to her. She could tell them stories about her troupe and possibly returning to them so Theo's hesitation is unnoticed. He too could be attached to the girl like she's a big sister, but he plays it off in greeting the two Phantomhive servant's.

Lastly it is fully confirmed that Doll is well... A Doll. But whether she is alive to get her revenge on Our!Ciel, or to harvest the kids to make a bigger Doll army is another idea to be explored further. She wants to drag others into this hell as in Finny and Snake, or the kids. But I do sense that she wants justice, she's just blocked by it as she acts around the orphanage.

These are some thoughts I have, but I look forward to other theories everyone has.

Please support the official release:

Black Butler #196 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRT8MXC4?ref_=cm_sw_r_apann_dp_CP27DJMQW9FT910XDY14

[asktheplethaura]

If Only , If Only - Unicorn Wars Fanfiction

((Chapter Twenty-Six))

~

((**Turns off the light and runs up the stairs as fast as humanly possibly to avoid being eaten alive by the demon that lurks in the shadows at night-time. I haven't seen him before, but I know he is there smh.**))

~~

Gordi was up quick, after gently setting his brother down on the ground so he could get between Sonrisas and the unicorn that had been between the both of them. The unicorn displayed signs of being agitated- it's ears twitching due to all the sudden shouting and movement going on in the darkness of the tall-grassed space. It was chaotic. Way too much, way too fast.

All of the other bears that were in the troupes came rushing out of the grass, holding their weapons- save for Coco and Pandi- seeing as one was holding the other. Unsurprisingly, the blonde bear with the lavender eyes still had his arrow readied and aimed from where he was being carried.

He stood in front of the unicorn, his brother curled up on the ground with his shirt still. He noticed that the troupes of the Lone Owl all relaxed right away- meaning they were probably expecting something or somebody else to be here. The other bears in Gordi's own group were all still on edge, though. 

"Don't shoot them- they mean no harm-!" Gordi shifted his hand, waving them in front of himself, to just continue to give the gesture of 'no' the the other bears. 

Sargento Caricias seemed to contemplate- even just for a second- and waved his arms to get the fellow soldiers to cease their advances. 

His amber eyes stared down on Gordi and he walked over with a bold stride, his stern expression demanding an explanation. No words even needed to be said between them two- Gordi started to explain right away.

"Sir, please don't shoot them. They weren't doing anything to us, they were just trying to rest and heal my brother..." The pink bear gestured his hands, all of the dark unicorns silhouettes shifting tensely in the darkness from where they rest their hooves.

Padre stood at the back of everyone, his eyes shielded by his glasses- accompanied by his typically neutral expression. The preaching bear seemed to not be willing to give a verdict, standing as far away from the unicorns as possible to maintain his distance. He didn't know what he would be willing to do if he got close enough to them to touch one. Everything within his faith was screaming at him. Demanding he do the deeds of the written text.

"Death, death to the unicorns!"

However, the command, in the back of his mind- was falling on deaf ears. He contemplated his actions, and the reaction to them. The safety, or logicality behind them. That wasn't what he was supposed to do, as a preacher of the faith. He was supposed to instill comfort of thy word, and follow thy command of the written word. 

Pulling his book out of his travelling satchel, though, Padre wiped his hand across the cover of the book that tore him apart from the inside out- and he looked down- further lost in thought. 

What was he willing to do from here? For some reason, holding this book began to feel more and more.. wrong. Almost as if he was holding a ticking time-bomb. For a second, Padre considered grabbing one of the many secured Grenades in his travelling bag, but just as he reached around- he stopped and sighed- clearing his mind of the lingering thoughts. He let his hand fall down to his side- before he looked away and just stood there in contemplation.

"We are at war with these unicorns, they have killed hundreds or thousands of our own, why should we spare them?" Caricias was raising his voice, the expression across his face was unreadable- it seem to be spiteful, despite the words being expelled from him giving every reason for him to be. 

Gordi's expression firmed, and he gestured to them. "We've killed their own too. So many of their own. They aren't attacking us, unless they have to...! I know you see that..!" One of the troupes of the rescued fellow group of soldiers put his bow and arrow away- before sighing. "I can't do it anymore...  no matter where we go, everything is messed up." The soldier brought brought his hands up to his face. "I don't care how it ends... just please make it be over..."  All of them were silent, before Blackie stepped forward. "I don't know what to think, but what I do know is that we have others who need medical help with supplies we do not have. We need to get going." 

Caricias scratched his head, seeming to get frustrated, before caving and looking to the side. 

"... We can't afford more casualties..."

((To Be Continued))

[thenuggetfamine]

If anyone has any name ideas for them, lemme know please!

[suzyandthefox]

Sensory overwhelm

Silly stuff I drew, also my first real attempt at drawing vore and g/t

Thank you @pineappleparfaitie @dav8530 and @opikarts for letting me use your characters/sonas!

I struggle a lot with style consistency, but I had immense fun doing this!

Yes I know Zet isn't this grey color but I dislike using pitch black except for lineart,besides it helps me w/rendering and stuff

[yuco-the-alien116]

RAAAAAWWWWW AMAZING! YET AGAIN! HITTING IT OUT OF THE PARK WOOOOOO

HAPPY (LATE) 8/8 PART 2 (electric boogaloo)

HAHA SORRY BEEN BUSY SO TOOK A BIT TO RENDER THIS UH HAPPY LATE SECOND PART TO THE 8/8 THINGIE! NSFW DNI!!KINK DNI!MDNI DNI!!

Soooo uh some peepers here so the pred is the oh so lovely @zetsweirdtherapyblog thank you bro for letting me draw this ily /p as for the preys: @chomp-o-rama , @lobotomysbrajn , @frootietoots , @suzyandthefox, @yuco-the-alien116 , @citrus-kiddo and me !

OK HAPPY LATE V-DAY *explodes*

[apoordecisionreally]

pipe.bo/mb from LOTS. (Can i get nommed by aqua :3)

[eustochium]

my family are all a bunch of biologically impossible mutants in the most insane of ways. my great uncle defeated a chimpanzee in hand to hand combat. my grandfather fell off a second story ladder onto pavement and got up and walked home and refused to see a doctor for a week until my dad made him go and x rays showed that he straight up obliterated 4 of his vertebrae. my other grandfather got diagnosed with lymphoma all thru his body and was given 6 months to live and he lived another 17 years. didn’t even lose his hair while doing chemo. my grandma hasn’t had a functioning liver since the mid 90s and she’s still kicking. my mom hasn’t eaten a single meal since june of 2020. she manages to keep herself alive solely on insulin injections and white wine. we are literally like a troupe of superheroes except our sole power is survival

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 1: Cold Night

Narrated by Qin Yi.

Narrator: New Year’s Eve.

Narrator: The streets are buzzing with tourists and locals alike. Lanterns hang high, symbolizing reunions and wishes for prosperity.

Narrator: On the windows are crimson paper cuttings, keeping out the relentless, frigid winter.

Narrator: After everyone’s eaten, the fish is the only remaining dish still intact on the dinner table. It’s a symbol of financial gain.

Narrator: Older relatives distribute red packets to younger ones, who are clamoring to go out and set off firecrackers.

Narrator: Families are out on the streets, and children are squealing in delight in their mother’s arms, excited by the firecrackers.

Narrator: Did you hear the firecrackers going off?

Choose either “The firecrackers sound very lively” or “The firecrackers are noisy.”

If “lively,” ...

You: They really put me in a festive mood.

Narrator: But I find them noisy.

Narrator: Makes it difficult to sleep.

If “noisy,“ ...

You: I find them a bit noisy.

Narrator: You too?

Narrator: Super noisy.

Narrator: Makes it difficult to sleep.

--

Narrator: New Year’s Eve is the one night of the year when the troupe has it easy.

Narrator: Those who have a family are off to meet them, even the troupe leader.

Narrator: Those who don’t have family remain in their beds, barely speaking.

Narrator: The midnight chill crawls into our bones, little by little.

Narrator: I climb out of bed. Frosty moonlight is spilt on the ground. In a corner, a flower blooms silently for no one.

Narrator: The world may be celebrating outside these walls, but inside it’s just cold.

Granny Xue: Jade?

Narrator: I don’t like it when people call me that.

Granny Xue: It’s cold out there. What are you standing outside for?

Narrator: Granny Xue comes plodding out in a faded apron. She tries to drag me back into the building.

Narrator: I don’t like being touched.

Granny Xue: Stubborn as a mule, I see! Hurry up and come in.

Narrator: I follow her into the kitchen, not wanting her bony fingers on my wrist.

Narrator: The dim yellow light in the kitchen seems to chase the cold out... but just a little. Maybe I’m imagining things.

Granny Xue: It’s New Year’s Eve.

Granny Xue: When my son was still around, we’d have noodles to celebrate. With some strips of meat... And an egg. Dirt-poor, we were.

Granny Xue: He’d still call it delicious, though.

Granny Xue: ...That was a long time ago, heh.

Granny Xue: If he were alive, he’d be your age.

Granny Xue: I still make a few bowls of noodles every New Year’s Eve anyway. This one is yours, Jade.

Narrator: Granny Xue is gazing at me... or should I say gazing at her son, through me?

Granny Xue: Eat it while it’s hot. You never eat much. You’re all skin and bones. That won’t do, you know?

Narrator: The noodles are steaming hot. The egg is fried, sunny-side-up, golden and crisp.

Granny Xue: These noodles will bring you health in the new year. Eat them, and you’ll live long and prosper!

Narrator: I pick up the bowl, letting the heat warm up my hands.

Granny Xue: If you get hungry at night, just come to me. I’ll whip up something. I won’t tell anyone, promise.

Narrator: I don’t like listening to people’s stories. I don’t even like noodles.

Narrator: But it’s a cold night, and it’s New Year’s Eve. So I eat up anyway.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3